Google
This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project
to make the world's books discoverable online.
It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject
to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books
are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover.
Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the
publisher to a library and finally to you.
Usage guidelines
Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying.
We also ask that you:
+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for
personal, non-commercial purposes.
+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help.
+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it.
+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe.
About Google Book Search
Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web
at |http: //books .google .com/I
C 9%o/' ^
^ ftarvarb Collcfle Xibrar^ '
Andrew Preston Peabody
Fund
BKQUKATHED BT
Caroline Eusns Peabodt
OF QUIBBIDGX
^p^f^i
NBW SBBIES, No. 47.
THE
ANNUAL MONITOR
For 1889,
on
OBITUARY
OF THS
MEKBEB8 07 THE SOCIETT 0? FMENDS
Ihi 6reat Sritam anti frelanH,
FOR THE YEAR 1888.
LONDON :
8oxj> BT Sakuxl Habbis ft Co., 6, BzsHOPflGATB WRBoxrr ;
AND BT
Mabt Sxssions, 16, Low Ousxoatx, Yobk;
ALSO BY
John Qouqh, 10, Mabxet Buzldinqs, Dxtblix;
AND BY THB EDITOB,
WxzxiAK Robinson, Wxst Bank, Soabbobouoh.
1888.
C ^3^?A 9
LONDOK :
BARBKTT, SONS AND C0.» PRINTERS,
OT. TO WEB STREET, E.G.
PREFACE.
A good man, when on his death-bed, and
feeling that the chill of death was creeping over
him, and that he was about to pass through the
portals of Eternity, exclaimed — " The anchor
holds ! " His faith and confidence in his Eedeemer
remained firm and unshaken when brought to the
test of that solemn hour. It is well that the
pages of another volume of the Anntuil Monitor
bear powerful testimony that the faith by which
the Christian can live the beautiful life of vital
Christianity, is also that with which he can enter
the valley of the shadow of death undismayed at
the certainty of the great change that must come
upon him as he passes through the river at its
further end. And whether it be the mother in
the vigour of her days who has been called to
leave her home and her little ones ; or the man of
business and the philanthropist who has but lately
taken a foremost place in the busy scenes of life,
IV FBBFACE,
and in the battle with sin and evil ; or the aged
pilgrim, whose life, chequered as it may have been
with hardship and trial, has been marked by
much faithful service ; as we witness these, meet-
ing with calmness and peace, and even with joy
at heart, the certain summons away from earth
and all its ties and endearments — as we see that
for them too the anchor held, because they knew
" that their Redeemer Hveth ; " — can it be other-
wise than that we should find in such testimony
a strong encouragement to hold the beginning of
the Christian's confidence steadfast unto the end.
The days will not soon pass away in which
the faith of many will continue to be assailed and
sorely shaken by the speculations and philosophic
theories of highly cultivated intellects. An
antidote to unhappy doubt and unbelief, such as
these pages furnish, is therefore of great value ;
and I can understand the feeling which prompted
that Hindoo scholar, Keshub Chunder Sen, when
he had looked through a number of Friends
books which had been presented to him, to say
that he was more impressed with the value of the
Annual Monitor than of any other, because he
thought that the lives of those who have lived in
our own times, exercise a more powerful influence
over U8 than those of even more conspicuously
PREFACE. V
excellent persons who were not contemporary
with us.
If such value really attaches 16 the Anwual
Monitor, it cannot but be matter for regret that
its circulation is so rapidly diminishing. Where-
as a few years ago more than three thousand
copies were annually distributed, the number has
now fallen belo^ two thousand : and this seems
to indicate that there must be a good many
amongst us, who might share in the help which
it offers, but who never see the little seriaL
To the Friends who have furnished me with
much excellent material this year I tender my
sincere thanks ; may their labour and my own be
the means of bringing help and encouragement to
many hearts.
W. Robinson.
West Ba/nJc, Scarborough,
Twelfth month, 1888.
LIST OF MEMOIRS.
Anna M. Andrews.
Mart Maw Barber.
EiCHENDA L. Barclay.
Mart Anne Eliott.
Louisa Evens.
Emilt J. Harding.
Thomas Lister.
John E. Littlebot.
Harrison Pennet.
Jane Pkiestman.
John R. Procter.
Henry E. Bobson.
John S. Bobson.
Sarah Bowntree.
Charles A. Scott.
Eliza Sessions.
Ann Snowdbn.
Annette J. Taylor.
Henry Taylor.
BicHARD Thompson.
Caroline L. Tyler.
Sarah Walker.
Margaret H. Wallis.
Mary Wbstlake.
William Oolson Wbstlake.
These Memoirs are published without any official
sanction or supervision on the part of the Society of
FriendSt arid on the sole responsibility of the voriters,
their friends y and the Editor,
THE
ANNUAL MONITOR.
188 9.
OBITUARY.
Age. Time of Deoease.
Dorothy Smbe Allen,
Enfield. 2 28 12 mo. 1887
Daugliter of Jokn A. and Elizabeth M. Allen.
Harriet Allen, 83 4 2 mo. 1888
HoUoway. Widow of Samuel Allen.
Margaret Allen, 51 6 11 mo. 1887
Hamiltons Baton, Cootehill,
Sarah Mehetabel Allen,
Canterbury. 66 2 2 mo. 1888
Anna Maria Andrews,
Ackworth. 42 3 10 mo. 1888
Wife of Frederick Andrews.
If it were not that Anna Maria Andrews
occupied for eleven years such a prominent posi-
tion at Ackworth School, and bo became known
B
2 ANNUAL MONITOR.
and loved by many connected with it, in all
probability no sketch of her life would have
been written ; it is therefore intended to confine
any reference to cfther periods of her life within
narrow compass.
A. M. Andrews was the youngest child of the
late William Lean and Hannah Lean, of Birming-
ham, and was received into the family, as a wel-
come birthday gift, on the 3rd of Sixth month,
1846, the very day when her eldest brother
attained the age of thirteen. This naturally
created a special bond between these two members
of what was always a very united family.
As a child A. M. A. was often passionate and
wilful, but a general favourite on account of her
lively and loving disposition. Owing to delicate
health, and other causes, her schooling was much
interrupted ; but, as she was naturally intelli-
gent, the course of reading undertaken later,
under her father's guidance, amply supplied any
deficiencies which existed.
Her spiritual life seems to have been a plant
of slow and gradual growth. When still young
she often had searchings of heart, which in time
deepened into a very simple, but a very real
trust in her Father in Heaven and her Saviour.
She often said that even as a child she had never
ANNA MARIA ANDREWS. 3
seen why she should be afraid of dying; and
early she seems to have realised the truth which
she expressed on her death-bed — " It matters
little how or when we die, if living we abide in
His presence." In one of her later letters occurs a
reference to her childhood — " What must be the
blank to those who do not believe in prayer !
Even when I was a very wild young girl I knew
its power."
She was always capable of unusual depths of
love, and these were culled out to the full in her
almost passionate attachment to her father. In a
letter written in 1875, " to my own precious, noble
father," she says, " All that is best in me, or
strong, is mostly owing to thee, and the love
I always knew thee bore me, the naughty, fiery
child thou so often forgave, and still forgives."
The band of four sisters, who had passed a
happy, merry ' childhood together, soon became
separated, and as Anna Maria was the last to
leave home, she became the "special Auntie,"
always ready to help her married sisters in their
homes. In 1872 she went to Ipswich, to her
sister Sophia, who was in delicate health, and on
her arrival announced in her bright way, " I am
come on a long visit," little thinking that it would
prove indeed a long visit ; for her dear sister
4 ANKUAL HOMITOR.
became suddenly seriously ill, and passed away
as in a moment in her younger sister's arms,
leaving to her charge her three little ones, irho
were immediately taken to her heart, and cared
for ever after as her own.
This incident altered the course of A. M. A.'s
life. For four years she devoted herself, at Ips-
wich and at Leeds, to her widowed brother and
his children. The spirit in which she entered upon
this part of her life's work may be gathered from
a letter written at this time — " lam busy as busy
can be ; very happy, though very often a strong
yearning comes over me just for one more kiss
from the one angel-sister. It seems just as if she
had said, ' I am tired, Anna Maria ; do my work
for me,' and gone to sleep ; for I have taken up her
burdens, which were getting too heavy for her, just
where she laid them down, and it is just lovely to
feel I am still working for her."
Under this discipline and increased responsi-
bility her character deepened, and the strong will
she had always shown developed into beautiful
strength of character.
In 1875 the increasing illness of her father
called her home ; and lovingly did she tend him
until, in Third month, 1876, she formed one of a
devoted band of watchers who stood around his
ANNA MARIA ANDREWS. 5
bed, to see him *' pass away like a child falling
asleep, cradled in the arms of Everlasting Love."
A. M. A. looked upon it as a wonderful in-
stance of the condescending love of her Heavenly-
Father that He should send just at this time,
when she was called upon to part for a time from
one whom she had so dearly loved, a fresh object
around which her heart's affections might cling.
A week before her'father's death, in time to re-
ceive his approval and blessing, she was engaged
to be married to Frederick Andrews, then a
master at Oliver's Mount School.
The eighteen months which followed were a
time of trial and proving. The home at Birming-
ham was broken up, and in other respects the
prospects for the future seemed very gloomy. A
few extracts from A. M. A.'s letters during this
period will show that lessons of faith and patience
were being leamt.
" In meeting this morning I felt more restful,
and * Father, glorify Thy name,' passed over and
over before me. We can glorify His name by
bearing our trial cheerfully."
" Oh, I only hope my trust and faith is the
real thing ; so that when it is tried yet further,
as it may be, it will not fail me. It is easy to be
resigned in prospect."
6 AKNUAL MONITOR.
"I was thinking last night I could hardly
say that I wished the trouble away (this referred
to F. A/s threatened loss of sight), for it is —
* Like some angelic warder,
Ever keeping sacred order
In the chambers of my heart.'
I am trying daily to brave myself to bear and do
anything. I do want so to be cheerful in hearty
as well as externally. said to-day, * Thee
will never be unhappy : thy spirit will carry thee
over anything.' And it seems such a shame to
me that I should show such a merry front to all,
and only have a grieving striving heart to show
my Father. I am not satisfied with veneer, I
like that prayer, " Make me to love Thy wilL"
*' I often think it seems so shabby to wait
for trial before you give your whole heart to God.
It seems more noble to serve when things are
prosperous around you. In trouble stronger help
you mtLst have."
Speaking of a special petition she had been
pressing at the throne of grace, she goes on to say,
*' And then all of a sudden I found myself talking
to our Father just as a father, and telling Him
all about thee and our love ; and thee can't think
what a blessed feeling of rest and peace stole into
ANNA HABIA ANDREWS. 7
my poor burdened heart ; if only I could always
feel like that ! I was so struck for the second
time in reading 'Stepping Heavenward/ with
Katie's mother's dying words, * I have given the
Lord a deal of trouble, but He is driving me
into pasture now.' "
On the 11th of Seventh month, 1877, Anna
Maria Andrews was married from her eldest
brother's home at the Flounders Institute, and
within a few weeks entered upon her life at
Ackworth as mistress of the large family at the
School. Coming as she did a stranger to the
School, some little time elapsed before she took
root ; but when she began to recognise her power
for usefulness, and to gain the love and redpect
of all with whom she was associated, her affec-
tions were given in no stinted measure, and the
" dear old School *' proved a very happy home, to
her. From the first her power was felt in up-
holding her husband's hands in «very department
of the School. She grasped at no special authority,
but quietly waited until her sympathetic influ-
ence made itself felt, and before long she was the*
one to whom all could come-^teachers, officers,
servants, children — with a certainty of welcome
and loving help. However often the knock was
heard at her sitting-room door, the same ready
8 ANNUAL MONITOR.
bright smile welcomed the visitant ; never were
any allowed to feel their call inopportune, for she
looked upon these interruptions as part of her
daily work, and strove earnestly to keep —
" A heart at leisure from itself
To soothe and sympathise."
When her own children claimed more of her
time and attention, her love for and interest in
the scholars was daily shown by the happy smiles
she dispensed so freely as she walked rapidly
through the passages, or down to her place in
girls' or boys* dining-room. The practice which
she kept up from the first of kissing all the girls
in their beds, on the night of their return to
school after holidays, was characteristic of her ;
and that these little manifestations of loving
interest were appreciated, others besides the
scholar whose letter is quoted below could testify.
"Never shall I forget Mrs. Andrews, with her
dear kind motherly ways. It always seemed to
do one good to meet her in the passage, and to
receive from her a bright and loving smile.''
A. M. A. took special interest in the occu-
pants of the sick nursery, whether teachers or
children ; and many an hour did she spend
either in reading to the patients, or in doing
numberless little offices to help towards recovery.
ASVJL MARIA ANDRKWS. 9
Her mere presence brightened a sick room, and
her deft fingers were never idle until the best had
been made of everything. One of her boys wrotey
on hearing of her illness, " I have not forgotten
the many kindnesses so lovingly bestowed on
myseK by her daring the time I was ill at Ack-
worth, also the kindly farewell on leaving the
School, which are still fresh in my memory."
Her services were always eagerly sought if
any entertainment was thought of ; and many
happy hours were spent in her company by the
boys of the first class, when preparing for the last
evening of the half-year. She entered heartily
into their fun, and yet insisted on everything
being well and thoroughly done. In this con-
nection we may quote the words of one who knew
her well : — " The perennial freshness in her is
what I think of as much as anything in her life
here at Ackworth. She had a thorough enjoy-
ment of life, and so genuine a satisfaction in
seeing things well done, and pleasantly done, and
beautifully done, whether by others or by herself,
that in the very simplicity of her nature, and
in her artlessness, she would commend things
heartily that pleased her, without much question-
ing as to whether the object that won her appro-
bation were her own or another's. She was gene-
10 ANNUAL MONITOR.
reus to a fault in commending the work of others,
even to their faces. It was, I believe, her artistic
sense of beauty, whether of form or of perform-
ance, that, being gratified, confessed itself by such
simple avowals of delight, which were, in fact,
with her just so much overflowing thankfulness
for happiness received."
Early in 1879 her cup of happiness seemed
full to overflowing, when the maternal love she
had lavished upon so many received a new object
for its exercise in the birth of her first child. On
her recovery, some of her thoughts found expree.
sion in the following verses, which she wrote for
the Girls' Essay Society : —
Thronging to the gates of heaven
Game a band of angels bright,
Meeting there to speed the going
Of a baby soul that night.
Came an angel from the Presence ;
In his arms the treasure lies,
Just fresh from the Father's bosom,
Sent to gladden mortal eyes.
Pressing round the radiant bearer,
A sweet song the angels sang ;
Their glad voices' richest cadence
Through the golden city rang.
ANNA MARIA ANDREWS. 11
Sang they to her of the beauties
In this lovely world of ours ;
Told her of the glorious sunsets,
Counted up the sweetest flowers ;
Told her softly of the sorrow
She might haply meet with here ;-
And across their faces flitted
Just the shadow of a tear ; —
Told her gladly of the safety
Faith and prayer to her would bring ;
Charged her to be pure and holy ; —
Sweet the things that angels sing : —
In a chorus of rejoicing
Told her of the rest at last,
As the angel from them moving
Through the shining portals passed.
** Good-bye, little soul," the angels
Called, with many a loviQg smile ;
Through the air a voice came echoing,
" Good-bye for a little while."
Tenderly the angel held her.
Softly towards the earth he came ;
Lovingly he whispered to her
Such a pretty little name.
When he reached our sleeping village.
Dawn was breaking into day ;
Very short had been the journey.
Heaven is not far away.
12 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Oh ! our cold grey walls were lighted
With the glimmer from his wings ;
And the children, — ^whilst he*s passing, —
They are dreaming holy things.
Surely some one saw the angel !
Surely heard his gentle tread t
Or perhaps they caught the music
Of the blessing that he said.
If our eyes were all too heavy
For beholding guest so fair,
Joyfully we found a token
That an angel had been there ;
For it happened in the morning,
When the snow lay on the ground ;
We, with very great rejoicing,
In our midst a " Daisy " foimd I
This gift of rhyming, which A. M. A. pos-
sessed along with a love of painting, and the
power of rapid and graphic sketching?, afforded
great delight to her children and others. Many
are the letters adorned with sketches recalling
humorous incidents of travel, which her children
received during her occasional absences from them.
In her last illness weary hours were brightened
by her use of brush and palette, and very precious
now are the flower paintings she has left, no mean
evidence of her artistic skill.
ANNA MARIA ANDREWS. 13
•
Her life at Ackwortb. was made happier by
the residence in the viUage of her aged mother,
whom she tended with loving and grateful care.
Visitors to the scliool were always welcomed with
gentle hospitality ; and the members of the Com-
mittee were regarded from the first as personal
friends whom it was a privilege to know.
During the winter vacation of 1887-8 A. M. A.
was seized with a painful illness ; but some time
elapsed before any danger was apprehended. A
Leeds doctor had been consulted in the previous
autumn, and now again his opinion dispelled
fears which had begun to arise. After two months'
illness A. M. A. was able to leave her room and
mingle with her family ; but as pain still con-
tinued, a fresh visit was paid to Leeds, and possible
serious consequences were now hinted at. On
returning home she writes, " Every one is so kind
to me — flowers come from far and near — and if
love and sympathy could have cured me, I should
have been well long ago. I am thinking of His
sufferings to-day ; what are mine to His 1 And
He had no sympathy, only taunts ; so surely I
can bear on cheerfully."
On the 7th of Fourth month she and her
husband went to Leeds for a final consultation ;
lodgings were taken in the expectation that an
14 ANNUAL MONITOR.
operatioii might be necessary. Two days after-
wards the examination was made. When the
doctors had retired, she said to her sister, " Now
I must not forget that that was not the real
ordeal. I am waiting still for sentence." When
her husband returned and gently told her that
the doctors considered there was no hope of
recovery, she quietly remarked, " Then all they
can do is to try and ease my passage ; " and
then, alone with her husband, she showed forth
the reality of her faith and trust, in calm
submission to the Father's wilL Months before
she had faced this possibility, and had been
fitrengthened to pray, " Father, glorify Thyself in
me." Buying the few quiet days which were
spent before returning home, her testimony was
frequent to the keeping power of her Heavenly
Father : — ** He has never left me for one minute ;"
*' I am passing through the swellings of Jordan,
and I find the bottom very good,^ And again
one morning she said, '^ I was afraid, when I
became weak, I should not have power to find
Him ; but there is no need ; He comes to seek
me now ; I find Him by me when I awake."
'' Last night in my weariness I was afraid Satan
would harass me ; but no, God kept hold of my
hand."
ANNA MARIA ANDREWS. 15
On returning home the sight of her children
naturally aroused deep feeling ; but again she
was wonderfully upheld, and writes herseK with
regard to the meeting, '^ Then my beautiful chil-
dren — I sent up the prayer, ' Give me plenty of
pain, lest I dishonour Thee ' — ^but it soon passed,
and I am as joyously happy as ever, revelling
in the human love around, and resting in the
Divine love perfectly.*' Throughout her illness
it was striking to notice how the anticipation of
Heaven, the thought "that I shall see my glorious
Lord," as she expressed it, seemed to cover up
the thought of the inevitable parting from life
and its fondest ties.
Six months of almost incessant and often
excessive pain now ensued; but the self-forget-
fulness which had characterised her in time of
health was still maintained ; and her radiant joy
was beautiful to behold. She was often anxious
lest this brightness should be attributed to mere
natural spirits. To one of her sisters she writes :
" As a rule I fortify myself in the quiet hours of
the night for cheery bearing of all before others
in the day-time. If I did not, I fear impatience
and irritation might take me unawares before
my darlings, and so bring dishonour on my Lord ;
but with these lonely hours of communion with
16 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Him I am always kept perfectly and even buoy-
antly happy.'* And so she continued to the end,
and passed away with a lovely smile upon 'her
face, which seemed to tell of a blessed foretaste
of that bright home to which her purified spirit
had taken its flight ; whilst her poor body, no
longer racked with pain, lay so calmly beautiful
in death, that not inappropriately were recalled
the lines of Bunyan, in which he speaks of the
Pilgrim lying in a chamber whose windows
opened to the sunrising, and " the name of that
chamber was Peace."
The gathering round the grave was a
numerous one. After the scholars had sung the
hymn, " We shall walk through the valley and
the shadow of death," the silence was broken by
William S. Lean, whose words were felt to be so
appropriate and helpful that they are here re-
produced : —
** I shine in the light of God,
His likeness stamps my brow ;
Through the shadows of death my feet have trod,
And I reign in glory now.
" No breaking heart is here,
No keen and thrilling pain ;
No wasted cheek where the frequent tear
Hath rolled and left its stain.
ANNA MARIA ANDREWS. 17
** I have found the joys of Heaven,
I am one of the angel band ;
To my head a crown of gold is given,
And a harp is in my hand.
'* I have leoirned the song they sing
Whom Jesus hath set free ;
And the glorious walls of Heaven still ring
With my new-bom melody.
** No sin, no grief, no pain,
Safe in my happy home.
My fears all fled, my doubts all slain,
My hour of triumph come.
" Oh, friends of mortal years.
The trusted and the true,
Ye are walking still in the vale of tears,
But I wait to welcome vou.
" Do you mourn when another star
Shines out from the glittering sky ?
Do you weep when the raging voice of war
And the storms of conflict die ?
" Then why should your tears run down.
And your hearts be sorely riven.
For another gem in the Saviour's crown.
And another soul in Heaven ? **
"So, when this corruptible shall have put on
incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on
immortality, then shall be brought to pass the
saying that is written. Death is swallowed up in
18 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Tictory. death, where is thy sting ? grave,
where is thy victory ? The sting of death is sin ;
and the strength of sin is the law ; bat thanks
be to God, which giveth ns the victory through
our Lord Jesus Christ." "Let not your heart
be troubled," said our Leader and compassionate
Saviour ; " In my Father's house are many
mansions ; if it were not so, I would have told
you ; for I go to prepare a place for you ; and if I
go and prepare a place for you, I will come again
and receive you unto Myself, that where I am
there ye may be also. And whither I go, ye
know the way." " I am the resurrection and
the life ; he that believeth in Me, though he were
dead, yet shall he live : and whosoever liveth
and believeth in Me shall never die." " Father,
I will that they also whom Thou hast given me
be with me where I am : that they may behold
i^y glory which Thou hast given me ; for Thou
lovedst me before the foundation of the world."
" How beautiful, and how full of comfort to
those under trial and tribulation, are the promises
in the glorious gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ !
When at the beginning of this week the cold
northerly wind and the early wintry snow came
upon the flowers in our gardens round this place,
I thought that it fitly reminded us of the chill
ANNA HARIA ANDREWS. 19
hand of death that was so soon to he laid upon
our precious sister, who loved the flowers so well ;
— herself one of the loveliest flowers that ever
brightened the lives of those among whom she
lived. But not as the flowers faded in our
gardens, not even as these beautiful emblems,
which tender hands have brought here and offered
as tokens of their affection, not mch is she. These
flowers must all wither before long ; but hers is
the resurrection body which shall be given in
exchange for this 'body of our humiliation,'
which it is appointed to us to carry about for a
little while, as one of the channels through which
our Father's discipline can reach the spirit, until
that which might seem as though it were fit to be
transplanted at once into the paradise of God is
made perfect and fully prepared for the glory of
the Heavenly Home."
** What then ? I am not careful to enquire ;
I know there will be tears, and fears, and
sorrow,
And then a loving Saviour drawing nigher,
And saying, I will answer for the moirow.
"What then? For all my sins His pardoning
grace ;
For all my wants and woes His loving kind-
ness ;
20 ANNUAL MONITOR.
For darkest shades the shining of God's face ;
And Christ's own hand to lead me in my
blindness.
" What then ? A shadowy valley, lone and dim ;
And then a deep and darkly rolling river ;
And then a flood of light, — a seraph hymn, —
And God's own smile for ever and for ever 1 "
Anna Maria Andrews left behind her letters
of loving counsel to her four children, written
during her time of illness. We conclude with
short extracts from two of these.
"Thee are nine years old ! and I, thy
mother, lie dying of an incurable disease ; and
though I love thee, my first-born baby, and dear
papa, and brother, and little sisters, as much as
it is possible for wife and mother to love, yet I
am very happy. I want to tell thee why I am so
happy, so that when I am gone, it may help thee
to come brightly towards the happy land that I
am going to. It is because I love my Lord yet
more than I love you, and because I know that
He will take me to live with Him in Heaven,
since Jesus Christ washed all my sins away by
dying on the Cross for me and everyone.
" My darling, I had looked forward with so
much pleasure to helping thee to grow up a good
and useful woman ; and, even though I shall be
*
ANNA MARIA ANDREWS. 21
gone, I may still "be able to help thee a little ; —
to have thy mother in Heaven will make that
happy land feel very near to thee.
• . • • .
" When mother was a little girl, and when
she was grown up, she used to try and do some-
thing kind for someone every day ; — even if it is
only a smile, or a kiss, or a kind word, thee will
find it makes thy whole life so veiy happy.
• • • • *
" Try to bear in mind, darling, that no young
girl can tread her path well and safely, without
the daily and even hourly looking to thy Heavenly
Father, for help to keep thee from many mistakes.'
To her youngest child, aged two years : —
**Jjittle dear one, thee are in mother's room as I
write this, asking for a grape ; and thee say, * Me
don't eat the ' kin : ' sweet little lamb, mother
prays that all through thy life, whether long or
short, thy Heavenly Father will help thee to
take only of the good and pure things of life, and
not to touch things that are wrong ; only to eat
the good grape, not the skin.
" Farewell, my little darling ; into God's
hand does mother commit her baby, trusting that
He will bring her into the kingdom that He
loves CO have made up of * The little ones,* '
22 ANNUAL HONITOB.
Eliza Applbton, 83 16 7 mo. 1888
Sunderland. Widow of John G. Appleton.
Joshua Ashbt, 68 25 6 mo. 1888
Brixton Hill.
Ellen Atkins, 51 14 10 mo. 1888
FonHhUly Ontario^ Canada, A Minister.
Daughter of the late John Atkins, of Chipping
Norton, Oxfordshire.
Anna Maria Baker, 48 6 12 mo. 1887
Clonmd. Wife of Richard Baker. •
Mart Balkwill, 62 14 1 mo. 1888
PlymwUh. Wife of Frederick P. BalkwilL
Mart Maw Barber, 68 19 11 mo. 1887
Sheffield. An Elder. Wife of James H.
Barber.
It is not easy to present a brief memoir of
the late Mary M. Barber, which shall be at once
consistent with her retiring disposition, and true
to her useful and loving character ; and it is not
forgotten that the object of obituary notices ought
not to be to eulogize, but to furnish fresh moni-
tors to Christian faith and duty.
The writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews
points to the just, who have lived by faith, and
hence wrought righteousness, as a great cloud of
witnesses, compassing about, as spectators and
examples, those still running the race of human
MABY MAW BABBBB. 23
life. Even yet, year by year, the number of the
witnesses increases, speaking by the evidence of
their lives, to ns, the survivors, of the faith
which worketh by love.
The subject of this memoir, Mary M. Barber,
nU Bayldon, was bom at Bamsley, in Twelfth
month, 1818. She was a timid, sensitive child,
and, her mother's death taking place in her
earliest infemcy, she never knew a mother's care.
Her father's family consisted of an older brother
and herself.
Amongst her memoranda are touching allu-
sions to the close affection in her early childhood
subsisting between her and her widowed father.
One or two of these memoranda may perhaps
interest others beside her own family, and are
therefore inserted here.
" In our young days," she says, " we were
rarely many months without visits from minister-
ing Friends, and these mostly paid what was then
known as a family visit, going from house to
house, and having a sitting with the family,
during which they mostly addressed each mem-
ber separately^ These Friends were frequently
entertained at my father's house. These visits
were a great enjoyment to me, and to this day
the remembrance of many of them is precious.
24 ANNUAL MONITOR.
At several times we had Joaepli Jolin Gurnej
as our guest. On one occasion he was accompanied
by his sister Elizabeth Fry. I was then about
seven years old, I think, and I remember Joseph
John Gumey walking with me in the garden,
his arms around me, as we so often saw him with
the children at Ackworth, and without his hat.
He was talking very lovingly to me, and touched
a very tender chord by saying, * Thou art thy
father's dear little darling.' This was when
he was a widower, and no doubt he was sym-
pathising with my dear father in his similar
sorrow.
" Another most interesting Friend was our
guest when I was thirteen years old — Stephen
Grellet — a visit never to be forgotten. He had
all the polish of the French noblesse, with the
simplicity of the Friend of those days* His ten-
derness over me, the little motherless child, was^
indescribable, and on passing on his journey
from Leeds to Sheffield, six weeks afterwards^
he stopped the carriage at our house, saying, * he
wanted to see the dear child once more.' "
In these memoranda there is an account of
Friends' Schools at York half a century ago or
more, from which we extract a few sentences.
** "When I was nine and a haK years old," »he^
MABY MAW BARBER. 25
says, '^ mj brother and I were sent to school at
York ; he to the boys' school, then situate just
out of Walmgate, the master being William Simp-
son, and I to Hannah Wilson's, South Parade,
Micklegate Without, then a school of some note.
We had thirty or thirty-five girls, boarders, and
a large day school as well. My dear old friend,
Sarah Mason of York, then Sarah Stickney, was
the head teacher, and acted a mother's part
to me, a poor little timid child. We had more
privileges there than we find at most schools,
and one of these was that each Assize time we
were allowed with our teachers to spend a day
in the Court ; and during these 'occasions I heard
Brougham, then a barrister, Scarlett (Lord Abin-
ger) being one of the judges."
Mary M. Bayldon was three years at Hannah-
Wilson's school, but it dwindled down, until^
one half year, Jane Wheeler CDaniel Wheeler's
youngest daughter) and Mary M. Bayldon were
the only boarders, and during the last half-year
of her stay, about 1831, the latter was alone.
Nearly at the same period, we believe, the
Yorkshire Quarterly Meeting's school for girls
was re- opened, and in 1832, Mary M. Bayldon
became a scholar there. The school was then in
Castlegate, not far from it^ original situation,.
rv
26 ANNUAL MONITOR.
where her mother and aunts had been scholars
thirty or forty years earlier.
She speaks in grateful terms of the loving
care of Hannah Brady, afterwards Hannah Sewell,
then the superintendent, and says she could re-
member no punishment having been inflicted in
the school except once, and this was for the
singular offence of one of the girls inviting an
itinerant showman to exhibit opposite the school
windows during the temporary absence of Hannah
Brady, whose unexpected return at the moment
when the girls were assembled at the windows,
and a crowd was gathered in the street to see the
performance, produced consternation in the minds
of both teacher and scholars.
Few teachers have been enabled to inspire
feelings of deeper affection and reverence in the
hearts of their scholars than Hannah Brady did,
her motherliness and Christian influence in the
school being blessed long afterwards in many a
liome, and notably in the case of Mary M.
Barber.
She was married to James Henry Barber, of
Sheffield, in 1843, and her married life was
extended to a period of nearly forty-four years.
It was one of great activity, the whole of her
family of twelve children growing up, and sur-
MARY MAW BARBER. 27
viTingher. They bear witness to her mingled
love and quiet firmness, her determination to be
obeyed by her children in their early life, com*
bined with her ever self-sacrificing aifectiony
which was very manifest in the home.
Nor did any one who knew her intimately
doubt that the spring of duty was in her deep
Christian principle, little as she said about it.
Very humbly believing in her Saviour, her life's
work at home, and out of her own house, was done
from love to Him, and in later years her service
was one of great usefulness outside her family.
Few members of her meeting visited their
fellow - members more systematically and con-
stantly than she did, even when partial blind-
ness and feeble health attended her advanc-
ing years. She took a lively interest in the
various concerns and trials of Friends in these
visits, especially so in times of sickness and
bereavement. She thus carried out the injunc-
tion, " Look not every man on his own things,
but every man also on the things of others."
Her attachment to the Society of Friends
was deep, and she was regular in attending their
meetings ; and, whilst believing herself to have
no gift as an Elder, she performed the duties of
the office in private with faitlifulness.
28 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Very tender was her feeling towards the
poor, assisting them with her time and counsel,
as well as by aid in other ways. Whilst she
esteemed her own powers for religious teaching
to be very small, others saw them very dif"
ferently, and she proved eminently fitted for the
charge of a Mothers* Meeting. The love of he'
mothers, many in number, was touchingly shown
at the time of her death. She had gone to thei'
homes, and called out their affection by sym-
pathy; advising with them in their many troubles,
privations, and temptations, in their family ill-
nesses and domestic anxiety, without patronage
or »how of condescension, as only one siste'
with a woman's heart could speak to another.
Thus had they been taught to believe in the
reality of the religion of Jesus Christ, of which
they heard her speak in the Mothers' Meetings.
The Female Refuge, the Local Orphanage, the
Homes for Girls, the Temperance organisations of
divers kinds, were actively promoted by her, and
she diligently attended their Committees. One
Committee after another when she was gone, sent
in its testimony to the sweetness and gentleness,
mingled with firmness of principle, which made
her valuable as a counsellor or peacemaker, and
also to her active energy as a worker.
k
\ MARY MAW BABBEB. 29
The last few montlis of Mary M. Barber's
life, from Fourth month to Tenth month, 1887,
was a period of great bodily feebleness and
gradual decline.
She greatly desii-ed to be present once more
at Yorkshire Quarterly Meeting, and she was so
at the meeting of that body in Sheffield at the
end of Tenth month, 1887. Too feeble to receive
her friends from a distance at home, she went to
the house of one of her daughters, a few miles out
of the town, being driven to the morning and
evening sittings of the first day of the Quarterly
Meeting. But on the following day it was evident
that her strength was failing, and that she could
not go out again, or even return home. She
remained, therefore, at her son-in-law's (Edmund
Priestman's) house during the remaining three
weeks of her life, in the midst of her children,
sujBfering little pain, and passing peacefully away.
Of her religious experience, in her last days
as ever, it was difficult to lead her to speak. A
few assuring words she uttered, but the evidence
of her faith was felt to have been in her life.
Those who knew her best were aware that
her estimate of herself was almost painfully
humble. She expressed in her last days disap-
pointment with regard to the love she had shown
30 ANNUAL MONITOR.
to others, and the good she had been able to do in
the world.
"Forasmuch as ye did it unto one of the
least of these my brethren ye did it unto Me," are
the Saviour's own words when foretelling His
coming in judgment and glory, and He also fore-
told that these words should be heard with sur-
prise by those to whom they should be addressed.
And yet it is true that not by works of
righteousness done, bat of His mercy He saveth
even His saints ; the true Christian work being
done at His prompting, and through the power
He gives, whilst the salvation is accomplished
through Himself alone.
Lucy Elizabeth Barclay,
Falmouth, 60 12 2 mo. 1888
Wife of John Barclay.
KiCHENDA Louisa Barclay,
Woodford, Essex, 60 12 2 mo. 1888
Wife of Henry Ford Barclay.
Richenda Louisa Barclay was born at Ham
House, Upton, on the 25th of Eleventh month,
1827. She was the youngest daughter of Samuel
and Elizabeth Gurney. As a child she was full
of spirit and energy, and was always the life
and centre of the children's amusements, her
love of fun and adventure often leading them all
BICBENDA LOniEU. BARCLAT. 31
into miscliief. She had a happy and luxurious
home, where she was allowed to indulge, with-
out much restraint, her various pleasures and
interests. Amongst the former was her great
love of animals; they never had a warmer partisan,
or one who would more zealously fight their
battles, wherever she saw them oppressed or ill-
treated ; a horse with a bearing - rein, or a dog
without water, would never be passed unnoticed
by her : suffering in any form, whether in human
beings or animals, was always to be alleviated,
if possible. She was a good horsewoman, and
many will remember the frequent riding parties,
gathered from the various family houses at the
borders of the Forest, of which parties she was
at first the youngest, and always the brightest
and most daring.
Her chief friends and companions, as her
brothers and sisters married and left Ham House,
were her cousin Charlotte Sheppard, and Jane
Lister, who afterwards became the wives of
Henry Carter, of Walthamstow, and of Smith-
Harrison, of Woodford. These friendships con-
tinued throughout Richenda Barclay's life, and
her friend Charlotte Carter was one of those
who watched through that last day when her
valued life was fast ebbing away.
32 ANNX7AL MONITOB.
Eichenda Gumey married, in 1848, Henry
Ford fearday, the eldest son of Ford and Esther
Barclay, of Walthamstow. Her home soon be-
came the centre of much that was pleasant and
attractive ; she always seemed intuitively to know
what would give others pleasure. Many of her
younger friends and relations looked forward to
their visits to her as the time when their favourite
amusements and pleasures would be provided
for them, and their every wish and taste, as far
as possible, gratified. Her older visitors too,
knew that in her they would find a deferential
and considerate hostess.
This peculiar thoughtfulness was not only
shown to those of her own station, it was ex-
tended to hundreds of others in a lower position.
Her deep religious feeling made her keenly
realise her responsibilities, and that she held
her " good gifts " from One to whom she must
give an account of her stewardship.
The gatherings held at Monkhams, Wood-
ford, her charming and happy heme, are well-
known. Year after year she and her husband
entertained the members of various religious
and philanthropic societies. The London Bible-
Women visited Monkhams, and her former
residence at Walthamstow, annually, with but
BICRENDA LOUISA BABGLAT. 33
one or two exceptions, for nearly thirty years.
Poor foreigners residing in London, members of
various Mothers' meetings, the London Hospital
nurses, Sunday schools of different denomina-
tions. Bands of Hope, and others, were invited
and entertained over and over again ; the details
of the arrangements and amusements were gone
into carefully by herself, and it was her custom
to present each one with a bunch of flowers and
a book on leaving. Many of those poor London
visitors will never forget those happy days, and
the kind smile and words they each received
from their hostess.
As might be expected from her character,
the poor in her immediate neighbourhood were
not forgotten ; she regularly visited her district,
and was a constant reader to the invalids in
Mrs. Gladstone's Convalescent Home ; but she
had a great horror of the pauperising effect of
indiscriminate giving, and her righteous indigna-
tion would be aroused at any attempt at decep-
tion or obtaining help under false pretences.
It must not be thought that the " poor," usually
eo called, were the only recipients of her
kindnesses. Many a lady could tell of her
iloctor's bill being paid, or of clothes being sept
for the children. Her carriage, too, waa often
34 ANNUAL MONITOR.
at the disposal of those who had not one of their
own.
Eichenda Barclay was a warm supporter of
all Temperance work. She was interested in,
and strongly inculcated it, long before it became
so generally a part of all Christian effort as is
now the case. She was more intolerant of intem-
perance than of almost any other vice, and perhaps
sometimes too severely judged those who did not
entirely abstain.
Before closing, we must for a few moments
glance at Richenda Barclay's more private and
religious life. She was a devoted wife and
mother ; though so capable and in some ways
independent in character, she strongly leaned
upon her husband ; in all matters of importance
she would neither speak nor act without his
counsel and advice. She delighted in the well-
doing of her children, and, if pride is ever per-
missible, one could overlook it in her when
gazing with admiring and affectionate eyes on her
five well-grown sons doing such credit to their
parents in their school and college careers. But
much as she wished them to excel in intellectual
and athletic pursuits, her earnest desire was that
they should become true and earnest Christians.
Her daughters and grandchildren, too, were
BICHENDA LOUISA BARCLAY. 35
constant sources of interest and pleasure to her,
and as the former became heads of families
themselves, they found in their mother the friend
and counsellor whose place no one can fill, and
in whose love and " caring " they could so surely
trust.
Notwithstanding the prosperity and happi-
ness which surrounded her, Richenda Bai-clay
was by no means without her trials and sorrow^.
The death of her baby, Edmund de Goumay, in
1864, and in 1867 of her daughter Alice at the
age of twelve, were keenly felt by her, more so
perhaps than some might have supposed, who
saw the brave way in which she resumed her
usual occupations ; but she was one who felt it
wrong to let personal grief interfere with one's
duty to others, and she had the strongest feeling
that all was "ordered," and must be accepted
and bowed to willingly and cheerfully.
For nearly thirty years she had a continuous
and increasing trial in her deafness ; it gradually
excluded her from so much that, to her especially,
would have been enjoyable and profitable in her
family and religious life. Latterly it also pre-
vented her partaking in the interests of her many
relations and connections, to which her natural
large-heartedness inclined her. It was, how ever,
36 ANNUAL MONITOR.
evident that there was a great and deep work
going on in that inner, silent life. Her constant
Btndy of her Bible, her desire that her own young
people and all others should become Bible students,
(at the time of her death the members of her
branch of the children's Scripture Union num-
bered nearly 300), her patience in bearing her
trial, her sweet and sympathetic smile, ready for
sp., when she heard not their voices, her frequent
allusions to the time when she should not only
be re-united to those gone before, but be able to
hold communion with them and with those who
should follow her to that better land — ^was it not
all the " bearing fruit upwards " of that Spirit
which was daily taking firmer root downwards in.
the quiet and prepared ground of her heart ?
It was on the 12th of Second month that her
deaf ears were opened to hear the message brought
her : — " The Master is come and calleth for thee."
It was a sudden call, but she was ready to arise
and go quickly unto Him. But though sudden,^
it was not wholly unexpected. For some time
her immediate family circle had noticed that her
health was not so vigorous as in past years ; and
the doctors had uttered a note of warning to those
near to her, a few months previously. She was
about as usual on the llth, but, feeling unwell.
BICHSNDA LOUISA BARCLAY. 37
the doctor was sent for; but no medical skill
could avail ; she rapidly became unconscious, and
passed away on the evening of the 12th, at the
age of 60. It was a calm and peaceful end to a
useful and active life ; but not one of those who
loved and depended on her, or of those many more
who will miss her, could wish to recall her from
her welcome rest, or to withdraw her from the pre-
sence of that Saviour whom she loved and trusted,
or from the company of the just made perfect.
Bichenda Barclay was a member of the
Wanstead Meeting, but was interred in the Ilford
cemetery, by the side of her children, grandchild
and brothers-in-law. She had herself desired,
only a fortnight before, that all the poor people of
Woodford who, in the event of her death, wished
to be present at her funeral, should have carriages
provided for them ; and this was at a time when
all thought her in her usual health. If anything
was needed to show the love and esteem in which
she was held, it was to be seen on that day.
Truly they came from far and near, rich and poor,
high and low, not as gazers, but as mourners and
sympathizers, anxious to show the last mark of
love and respect to her who had been to many of
them a sincere friend, and by whose thoughtful
generosity many are still benefiting:
38 ANNUAL-MONITOR.
William F. Bartlbtt, 61 27 3 mo. 1888
Henley-on-Thames,
Emilt BasS; Sheffield. 81 7 8 mo. 1888
Widow of Isaac Gray Bass.
Ellen Rowland Beck, 60 11 7 mo. 1888
Hastings. Wife of Samuel Beck.
Elizabeth Chapman Bell,
Brookfieldf Ireland. 14 30 5 mo. 1888
Daughter of Eichard Bell.
Isabella Benson, 79 25 2 mo. 1888
Preston. An Elder. Widow of Robert Ben-
son.
Ellen Benstead, 45 9 5 mo. 1888
Preston. Wife of Samuel D. Benstead.
Edith Genevieve Bewley,
8 21 5 mo. 1888
Blackrock, Dvblin. Daughter of Thomas A.
Bewley.
Mabia Biqland,
73
3 11 mo.
1887
Stockton-on-Tees.
Maria. Binns, Leeds.
70
14 9 mo.
1887
Louisa Binyon,
73
19 5 mo.
1888
Blachrodcy Cork. Wife of Joseph B. Binyon.
William Birrell, 49 12 12 mo. 1887
Halifax.
Martha Blackburn^ 59 18 2 mo. 1888
HvMersfiM.
ANNUAL MONITOR. 39
Frances Bloore, 72 27 3 mo. 1888
AshtoUf near BakewelL Widow of Bowman
Bloore.
Martha Bowden, 77 26 10 mo. 1887
Tottenham, Widow of Josiali Bowden.
Aones Bowes, 37 30 3 mo. 1888
Bessbrook. Wife of James Bowes.
Hannah Bowles, 49 13 12 mo. 1887
Kingstoron^ Dublin,
Ann BRAMMALL,.^cc;e«. 77 17 2 mo. 1888
Widow of Jolin Brammall.
Emilt Bransbt, 74 6 6 mo. 1888
Buxton^ Norfolk. Widow of Kirby Bransby.
Phyllis M. G. Bright,
Weetminster. 19 mos. 5 8 mo. 1887
Daughter of William L. and Isabella M.
Bright.
Catherine Treoelles Browne,
Ford Park, Plymouth. 90 21 5 mo. 1888
An Elder. Widow of William Browne, late of
Torquay.
Walter Freelove Brown,
KingsUm-on-TJumies. 29 16 2 mo. 1888
Ann Brunton, 84 28 12 mo. 1887
Lancaster,
BuTH Bulla, 63 17 5 mo. 1888
CUmtwrf, DMin, Wife of Timothy Bulla.
40 ANNUAL MONITOB.
!1^DWABD BuBTT, 65 2 11 mo. 1887
JVelbouTn$^ near GrantJiarrL
James Cadburt, 85 17 2 mo. 1888
Orimsburyy Banbury, A Minister.
Edmund Candleb, 79 26 1 mo. 1888
CamberwelL
Wilfrid Catchpool. 24 5 5 mo. 1888
- Kingdand, Son of George and Anna Maria
Catchpool.
Stdbnham Davis Chandlee^ M.D.,
Dublin. 30 25 3 mo. 1888
Henbt Chandleb, 74 14 10 ma 1887
ManchAster.
Robert Ash Chableton, 28 9 9 mo. 1888
Clifton, Bristol Son of Catherine and the late
Bobert Charleton.
RoBEBT ChbistY; 68 1 2 mo. 1888
Chignal, near Chelmrford.
Hannah Clabkb, 83 17 1 mo. 1888
HttcJcnaU HtUhwaite, near Mansfield, Widow
of George Clarke.
Elizabeth Clibbobn, 28 14 12 mo. 1887
Cork Wife of Barclay Clibbom.
John William Clouqh,
Leeds. 50 28 10 mo. 1887
Sarah Coleman, 68 15 % mo. 1888
Folkestone. Wife of William Coleman.
ANNUAL MONITOR. 41
Mary Collins, 91 13 7 mo. 1888
Northampton. An Elder. Widow of William
Collins.
Hannah Maria Cooke,
OrmUrk 49 7 10 mo. 1888
Daughter of George and the late Susanna Cooke.
James Cooke, 78 23 8 mo. 1888
Blackrock, Cork.
Maria Corbbtt, 94 29 6 mo. 1888
Levenshiblmey Manchester^
Kathbrine a. Crofts, 36 13 1 mo. 1887
Cypress MUls, Blanco County, Texas, U.S. Wife
of Joseph S. Crofts.
James Crosbt, 67 20 2 mo. 1888
Holme, Yealand.
William Cumberland, 42 2 12 mo. 1887
Low Bentham.
Maria Dann, Eedhill 69 25 4 mo. 1888
Widow of Thomas Tully Dann.
Thomas Qates Darton, 77 16 12 mo. 1887
Peckhomi. An Elder.
Susanna Dickinson, 77 20 * 4 mo. 1888
Mountrath.
Ellen Dinning, 73 5 11 mo. 1887
Newcastle. Widow of Stephen Dinning.
Henry Douglas, 60 28 6 mo. 1888
Bishop Attckland.
42 annual monitob.
Maby Elizabeth Dbakibfobd,
43 20 11 mo, 1887
CoUhovM, near Hawkshead*
William Dbbwbt, 72 15 12 mo. 1887
Fle«t%oood,
Pbiscilla Dunning, 61 1 11 mo. 1887
Broadstam. Widow of John Donning, late of
Middlesborough.
BoBEBT Dtmond, F.S.A., 64 31 8 mo. 1888
Exeter.
Luke Eastwood, 64 2 6 mo. 1888
Lancaster.
Maby Anne Eliott, 67 16 11 mo. 1887
Liskeard. An Elder. Widow of John
Eliott.
In the removal from amongst us of Mary
Anne Eliott, it seems right to bear testimony to
the value and depth of her Christian character,
and to make some little record of her life of self-
renouncing love and patient continuance in well-
doing.
She was the eldest daughter of Henry and
Anne Sturge, of Lambridge, Bath, and was bom
there on the 27th of First month, 1820. Blessed
with watchful parental training, and surrounded
by many helpful influences, her heart was early
drawn to her Saviour, and in after-life she was
HABY ANNS ELIOTT. 43
unable to remember the time when she did not
desire to love Him.
She was naturally fond of learning, and, being
endowed with considerable powers of mind and
a retentive memory, she entered with interest
and zest into the educational advantages which
Bath afforded. Nor were things of highest im-
portance forgotten. Bath Meeting was at that
time frequently visited by ministers of the Gospel
travelling in their Master's service. A visit from
J. J. Gumey to the Quarterly Meeting was a
season of special visitation to many young people,
and M. A. S. shared largely in the blessing. She
also looked back with much thankfulness to
family visits at her father's house, from devoted
servants of the Lord, to whom a remarkable
insight was often given into the spiritual state of
their hearers. M. A. S. was from early life a
useful and valued member of Bath Meeting, where
for several years she acceptably filled the office
of Elder.
During a time of trial in the removal of her
dear father, she attended a meeting in which the
late John Pease, in the course of an impressive
address, expressed his belief that not only spiritual
blessings, but also those of outward relationship,
were in store for some present. It was not long
44 ANNUAL MONITOR.
after this that she entered into an engagement of
marriage with John Eliott, of Liskeard, a step
which was attended with great peace^ and their
union, which took place in 1859, was evidently
owned and blessed of the Lord. It might be said
that '^ the heart of her husband did safely trust
in her,'* and she entered with warm interest and
sympathy into all his religious and benevolent
engagements, strengthening his hands both in his
public and private work, and cordially entertain-
ing their frequent guests travelling on philan-
thropic errands.
Though naturally diffident, our dear friend
was enabled faithfully and with large-hearted
sympathy to uphold that which she believed to
be right and true, wherever found. She was a
deeply-attached and consistent member of the
Society of Friends, whose principles and interests
were ever near her heart. She rejoiced to see
the young coming forward to take their right
share in the service of the Church, and her loving
words will long be remembered by some of these,
counselling young ministers to keep in the life,
and use every opportunity of serving their Master,
that they might not know the weakening effect of
disobedience, but grow and be strong in the Lord
and in the power of His might.
MART ANNE ELIOTT. 46
She felt that Quakerism in the mere fonn
"WQB a dead and empty thing, and she looged that
all our meetings might be held in the power of
the Lord ; that the silence might be a living
silence, and that the ministry might testify of
Christ, and lead men to Him.
In 1879 M. A. Eliott was called upon to part
with her beloved husband, whose health had for
a considerable time caused her much anxiety.
Her God in whom she had so long trusted did
not forsake her now, but enabled her from the
depths of her sorrow to say, " The Lord gave and
the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name
of the Lord." Their union had been so close that
life could never seem quite the same afterwards,
but her sweet resignation to the Divine will was
manifest to all around, and she endeavoured to
help forward and to show her interest in much of
the good work in which her husband had been
engaged.
She writes : — " The removal of my precious
husband has forcibly impressed the lesson that
time is short, and but little remains. Oh ! may I
be enabled to use all diligence in doing what my
hands find to do, remembering how short the
time now is, and seek humbly to be preserved
within the safe enclosure of the divine fear, and
46 AKKUAL MONITOR.
that strength maybe given me to uphold the ban-
ner given to them that fear Him^ and to display it
because of the truth." Experiencing His presence
*^ who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that
we may be able to comfort others with the same
comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted
of God," she writes to another bereaved one : —
^ How inexpressibly comforting is the invitation
to hearts thus left desolate, — * Let thy widows
trust in Me.' Thou wilt, I believe, experience
the guidance of His hand in this blessed trust,
and the upholding power of His sweet presence^
enabling thee to glorify Him."
In the summer of 1883, with unselfish love,
she cheerfully parted with her only child on her
marriage with Dr. Thorp, of LiverpooL The
companionship of mother and daughter had been
an unusually close one, but she characteristically
remarked that *^ when a step is a right one it is
right for all concerned ; " and, as it afterwards
proved, they were not to be long separated.
For some time the health of our dear friend
had not been strong, and early in 1885 it became
more seriously affected. After this she mostly
resided at the home of her son and daughter in
Liverpool, where her reverent and saintly spirit
and holy example, and her loving and prayerful
HART ANNS XLIOTT. 47
interest in ixer little grandcliilclren, will ever be a
precious memory. She was in the true sense a
" mother in Israel," and her helpful sympathy was
frequently extended to young men and others visit-
ing at her son's house, several of whom have testi-
fied to the blessing of her influence. Weary daja
and wakeful nights, with much physical exhaus-
tion, became often her experience; many times her
voice was heard in the night watches pleading in
prayer for her dear ones, herself and the Church.
About this time she writes : — " I cannot but
be conscious that the malady is making gradual
progress and weatening my powers, and I desire
to learn the solemn lesson it is designed to
convey ; and truly I have cause to acknowledge
the tender mercy of our Heavenly Father in
dealing with one so unworthy, so gently and
in such merciful kindness.'* And again :— •'* This
trial has been permitted,' I doubt not, for my
good, and to lead us more fully to realise the
uncertainty of all things here. Truly this is not
our rest, but a state of preparation for that blessed
home above, where sickness and sorrow can never
enter. May we be concerned steadfastly to jour-
ney thitherwards in lowly dependence upon Him,
who in the greatness of His redeeming love has
gone to prepare a place for all who trust in Him,
48 ANNUAL MONITOR.
and where it is my earnest desire we may all
one day be permitted to meet^ a united family in
Heaven."
During a time of prayer in her room she
asked : " Wilt Thou draw near to us and bless us ,
Bless and — and the dear children, and all
near and dear to us ; watch over us for good, and
Order all for us. Care for us through the night, and!
sustain by Thy holy presence during the silent
watches, whether of restlessness or quietness.
Forgive all my sins of omission and commission^
for Jesus' sake ; through whom we would offer the
tribute of thanksgiving and of praise. Amen ! ''
A week or two later she said, " I feel that
the Lord has been mindful of us, though I am so
utterly unworthy. I have been favoured to feel
the Saviour very near at times, though, at others,
it has been difficult to get at any feeling of
good."
Such experience enabled her the better to
enter into sympathy with others over whom the
enemy of souls took advantage, in times of physical
exhaustion, to deprive them of their peace. To
one of these she writes : — " Clouds have their
mission, both in a natural and spiritual sense, as^
well as brighter seasons ; and how good it is when
called to pass through th,e depths, and the light
MABY ANKB BLIOTT. 49*
of the Lord's countenance seems withdrawn, to
know that the promise is faithful and true, that
' the Sun of Bighteousness will arise with healing
on His wings to those who fear His name.* How
encouraging I have thought is the experience of
Christian in the 'Pilgrim's Progress/ and the
remark of Hopeful to him, * Be of good cheer, mj
brother ; I feel the bottom and it is good.' "
On one occasion she said, " I had a sweet
time this morning while you were at meeting ; it
almost seemed as if I could unite a little in the
song of the redeemed." At another time she said,
" It seemed as if the dew of Heaven were falling
round me." Once, when it was remarked what
a blessed thing it was not to have deferred the
great business of life until now, she replied by
speaking of the visitations of Divine love which
she had experienced in very early life, and then
said, "My shortcomings have been so great.'*'
She was reminded that His mercy is greater still,,
and she replied, " His mercy ! His merciful kind-
ness is so great ! " and then added with much
feeling : " It is a blessed thing to be taught, and.
to have experienced, that there are no joys like-
unto the joys of God's salvation."
In the summer of 1887 M. A. E. received am
unexpected renewal of strength, so that she was>
r
50 ANNUAL MONITOR.
once more enabled, in company with her daughter
and grandchildren, to visit her own home at
Liskeard, with all its hallowed associations, and
for a time she was a little better.
One morning, after a restless and almost
sleepless night, she said : " I feel I must keep
very near to Him, for I am in solemn circum-
stances, dear ; but He is a stronghold."
After her return to Liverpool in the Eighth
month she suffered much from sleeplessness and
restlessness, and for days she was mostly uncon-
scious and delirious. Then came the change
which can only be compared to a calm after a
storm. Her daughter was in the room when the
dear mother recognised her, and, with a counte-
nance full of feeling, said : ^' My dear child, the
Lord has kept me in safety and in peace, and
the shadow of His love has been over us." Then
she continued in a strain of praise ; ^* Gk>d is love !
— a stronghold ! — ^how beautiful the sunshine is !
think of His goodness. He knoweth them that
trust in Him ; how good the Lord has been ! He
knoweth the way that I take, when He hath
tried me I shall come forth as gold." The suc-
ceeding night refreshing sleep was her portion,
fluch as she had not enjoyed for months, and in
the morning she was equal to receive a visit from
MARY ANNE ELIOTT. 51
J. B. B— -, when a precious season of prayer at
her bedside cheered and comforted her.
A few days after this, when feeling very
exhausted, in answer to the remark, '^Dear mother,
these are weary days for thee," she said, " Yes,
my love, but we must look up ! God is love."
At another time she said, " I want to be enabled
to praise the Lord. I have found Him to be a
stronghold." In the afternoon of the same day
she said, '' It is indeed sweet to draw nigh through
the precious blood shed for sinners, that cleanseth
£:om all sin. Wilt Thou cleanse us therein from
all iniquity, and enable us to walk in newness of
life to Thy praise and glory, for Jesus' sake, and
to offer the tribute of thanksgiving and of praise
to Him who has loved us and given Himself for
us." The verse was repeated, "I sought the
Lord and He heard me, and delivered me from
all my fears." She added, " How beautiful ! and
He careth for us."
A week or two later, after a day of much weary
restlessness, she said, ^'I trust, dear, that the Lord
is caring for us, and leading us by the right
way, though it seems different from what we
expected. How very precious the words are, * He
that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him
up for us all, how shall He not with Him also
^ ANNUAL MONITOB.
freely give us all things ? ' I do feel all your
love so much. It is sweet to think of the good-
ness and mercy which have followed us."
The next day, after receiving some presents
•of choioe fruit, she said, " How good the Lord is
to send me such proofs of His love."
When too weak for much connected read-
ing, she found great comfort in the records of the
Anrntal Monitor, which, in time of health, she
had each year looked forward with interest to
receiving, and distributing copies of it to others,
and to which on many occasions her pen had con-
tributed; and now, feeling herself fast nearing the
«nd of the journey, she was helped and encouraged
by reading in its pages the record of the expe-
riences of others similarly circumstanced.
On the 17th of Ninth month, she prayed : —
^* "Wilt Thou enable us to draw near to Thee, in
the sense of the goodness and mercy which have
followed us all our lives long ; and now, in the
closing scenes of life, to seek for a preparation
that we may dwell with thee for ever ? " Then
«he repeated the lines, which were great favourites
of hers : —
** Oh, Saviour, I have nought to plead,
In earth beneath or heaven above,
But just my own exceeding need,
And Thy exceeding love.
MARY ANNS ELIOTT. 53
'^ The need will soon be past and gone,
Exceeding great, but quickly o'er ;
The love unbought is all Thine own,
And lasts for evermore,"
On the 10th of Tenth month, after a night of
pain and discomfort, she said, " Help is laid on
One that is mighty, arfd He promises to give
strength to those who trust in Him."
The next day the many loved Friends
assembled at Liskeard, at the Devon and Corn-
wall Quarterly Meeting, were the subjects of her
thoughts and prayers; especially was this the case
at the time of the Meeting for Ministry and Over-
sight, when she felt very near to them in spirit,
and prayed : — " Oh, gracious Father, wilt Thou
bless the dear Friends who are gathered together
at Liskeard to promote the cause dear to us ; wilt
Thou strengthen them to uphold the banner
which has been given us to display because of the
truth ; and wilt Thou bless us who are absent ;
bless us in all the changes of life for Jesus' sake.
We would remember Thy goodness to us in the
past, and all Thy loving-kindness."
A few days before the end a young Christian
friend, a doctor, came in to see her, and in con-
versing with him she repeated with much feeling
the lines : —
M ANNUAL MONITOR.
" Thy will, not mine, oh God,
However dark it be ;
Lead me by Thine own hand ;
Choose Thou the path for me.
Smooth let it be or rough,
It will be still the best.
Winding or straight it leads
Bight onward to Thy rest."
She came downstairs for the last time on the
11th of Eleventh month, after which she became
lapidly worse, and the dear sister was telegraphed
for to whom throughout all her married life she
had been so closely and lovingly attached, and
from whom she had ever received such true sis-
terly affection. She arrived in time to receive
a sweet look of recognition before the complete
unconsciousness came on.
In the early morning of Fourth-day, the 16th,
those dear to her were summoned to the bedside
for the last solemn watch, and the feeling of
quiet and heavenly peace in the room will long
be remembered, as, at about ten o'clock, her puri-
fied spirit entered into the rest which remaineth
for the people of God.
As night drew on it was sweet to realise that
for her there would be no weary suffering hours,
waiting for the morning, for " there shall be no
night there."
liOUISA J. SYSNS. 55
" Thy sun shall no more go down, neither
shall thy moon withdraw itself, for the Lord shall
be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy
mourning shall be ended."
EicHABD Ellison, 50 10 3 mo. 1888
Hatoes.
Ernest Evans, 25 1 V mo. 1888
Cambridge, Son of Josiah and Mary Hannah
Evans, of Christchurch, Hants.
Louisa J. Evens, 66 1 4 mo. 1888
Southampton. A Minister. Wife of John
Evens.
Louisa Evens was the daughter of James
and Sarah Jenkins, and was bom at Hackney in
1822. Her mother died when she was about two
months old, and she was adopted by her aunt,
Mary Gopsil, of Hertford. She was sent to a
day-school in the town, but advantages as to edu-
cation were not great. Naturally of a very
inquiring mind, and possessing great mental
energy, she becatae a devourer of books, and was
very largely seK-taught.
In quite early life she felt the need of a
change of heart, and passed through many deep
conflicts. At one time she was much of a Deist
in her belief, but the Lord led her to see the
truth of revealed religion, and in after life the
56 ANNUAL MONITOR.
intensity of her convictions was mingled with a
breadth of thought, and a full comprehension of
the difficulties of others, which perhaps could
have been gained in no other school Her
Heavenly Father, as One who loves to hear and
answer prayer, was to her a great reality, and
all things that affected her and those she loved,
great things and little things too, were carried to
His footstool. To go straight on in the path that
He marked out for her, in utter dependence on
His power and guidance, was the principle of her
life.
When about twenty years of age, while
visiting in Essex, she went to the little meeting-
house at Witham, now closed, and in a silent
meeting there she was convinced of sin. Not long
after, through an address of Robert Alsop, of
Maldon, her eyes were opened to see that the
Lord Jesus was just the Saviour she needed, and
she found peace to her troubled spirit.
Before her marriage she lived for some years
as governess in a Friend's family in Wales, and
afterwards as companion to Catherine Massey, at
Spalding ; from whence she was married to John
Evens on Twelfth month 8th, 1853. They settled
at Kingsland, where her daughter Agnes Mary
was bom ; but after recovering from the small-
LOUISA J. EVENS. 57
pox, they removed on account of her health to
Birchington in Kent, where her second daughter
was bom ; and about two years later they went
to Margate, where a son was added to the
family.
She had in this place much to contend with
in hindering outward circumstances ; but never-
theless she cheerfully gave her time and strength,
as way opened for service ; and her spiritual in-
sight into the needs of those she visited was often
most helpful. She opened her house for a Mothers'
Meeting, and also for a ladies' Bible Class in con-
nection with the Young Women's Christian Asso-
ciation, at first without any intention of con-
ducting it herself ; but very soon it fell into her
hands. It was largely attended and greatly
appreciated, many realising in it much spiritual
blessing and teaching. She also visited a large
convalescent home called The Wilderness. On
her first going there the inmates were quarrel-
some and noisy. In one ward quite an uproar
was raised ; but she persevered in her work week
after week, and in time weeping took the place of
swearing, and a marked change was seen in the
inmates.
At Margate she frequently spoke in meetings
for worship, and her gift in the ministry was
58 ANNUAL MONITOR.
acknowledged soine years later by Alton, South-
ampton, and Poole Monthly Meeting.
In Twelfth month, 1869, the family removed
to Southampton, and in the following month she
writes in her diary : — " Many months have elapsed
since I chronicled my thoughts and position, and
here I am in a new place among unfamiliar faces,
and in a very different locality. "Was it in the
Lord's ordering that we came ; in His will that
we took this little house ; according to His mind
that we have ordered our going? Yes, the pleasant
Sabbath bells far off seem redolent of peace, and
there is peace within, though the change from a
life of active service to one of spiritual idleness is
proving.*' She could not bear to feel at any time
that life was passing by without the Master's talents
.being put out to the best advantage. But work
soon presented, and she undertook the Bible
Class at the Above Bar Chapel Sunday School.
A member of the class writes : — " Her labours
were inestimably valued, and to numbers of her
scholars now scattered in the world many a recol-
lection of hallowed hours spent in her class will
come to refresh them. She was richly endowed
with gifts as a teacher, her own study of the
Bible being deep (in fact she seemed conversant
with every part) combined with intensity of con-
LOUISA J. EVENS. 59
viction, gracloasness of manner, and large warm-
hearted sympathy, which made her the confi-
dential friend as well as the teacher of all who
had the privilege of sitting at her feet and learn-
ing of Him who was indeed to her, * The Life,
the Truth, and the Way/ "
For many years she also conducted a Mothers'
Meeting at the meeting-house, at first in association
with another Friend, though afterwards carried
on by herself, until within a week or two of her
death, when their grief at her loss showed how
much the mothers had appreciated her work
amongst them. They were loved by her and
she by them, and they took a warm interest
in all that concerned her and those near
her.
In the early part of 1873 a great trial
awaited her in the very serious illness of her
daughter Louisa ; which, though the mother's
prayers were answered by her recovery, left her
partially deaf. This was a sore grief to L. E.
and a yet more tender affection was bestowed
on this beloved daughter frotn that time.
In the summer of the same year a special
request for prayer was sent to the Mildmay
Conference on behalf of "The Dark Places of
the New Forest." A young friend attending
60 ANNUAL MONITOR.
the Conference heard the Lord's call to go and
preach the Gospel to the people living there.
She wrote to Louisa Evens, and found in her
the practical sympathy and help she needed.
The two were but slightly acquainted with
eaoh other, but L. E. saw in the matter her
Father's hand, and in simple faith went for-
ward in the service. She opened her heart
and home to her young friend, and went with
her into the work. From this time the New
Forest was a source of keen interest to her,
and she continued to visit it from time to
time up to Christmas, 1887, when she pleaded
with the people, using the words: — "As it
may be tlie last time I shall ever come amongst
you, as we know not who may next be called
home," and prophesying, as it were, in the
earnestness of her address, that which we so
little expected concerning herself.
In 1874 she was summoned to Croydon to
the sick-bed of her boy, who was at school there..
She writes of this : — " For a while there was-
I
a fierce battle. Could I yield my only son ?
Yes, even so, through the grace given ; and
then came the sweet assurance — ' Becaiise thou
hast not withheld thy son, thy only one, I
will bless thee.' So I knew ere I reached my
LOUISA J* EVENS. 61
boy that death had no power, for the Lord of
life was there."
The summer of 1877 was spent in the New
Forest, whither for a few months the family
removed, and daring this time a General Meet-
ing was held there. In the autamn they went
to reside at Milbrook, near Southampton, wher&
they remained till a few weeks before her
death. Her home, like her heart, was always-
open, a warm welcome awaited those who>
entered, and they were not " visitors," but
members of the family at once. Her sympathy
with the joys and sorrows of others was of noi
common kind, and often, when her own heart
was oppressed with care, the best way to cheer
her was to bring her into contact with some-
fresh object to call it forth. In conversation
she was not only a most interesting and ori-
ginal speaker, but, what perhaps it is moie-
rare to iind, a really interested listener.
In Sixth month, 1879, she was thrown from*
her pony carriage — the first of a series of accidents-
which happened to her. Two years later she
slipped on the pavement and seriously injured
her wrist, which caused her much suffering. She-
placed herself under the care of Mr. Hutton, and
was always grateful for the help he gave her,
o
62 ANNUAL MONITOR.
though it was not without intense agony. In
the spring of 1882, a far more serious accident
occurred ; a stone wall under which she was
walking fell and crushed her beneath its weight.
Weeks of fearful suffering followed. One who
helped to nurse her through this says, " It was
my greatest privilege to wait on her ; her patience
and thoughtfulness for others throughout was
wonderful ; and if the pain of being moved forced
any sound from her, she always apologised for it,
being so afraid we should think she was hurt
needlessly. It was a never-to-be-forgotten lesson
to us of patience in suffering."
As fioon as it was possible for her to walk on
■crutches she was back at her beloved work at
the Sunday schooL Though in much bodily
weakness, her spiritual strength was greatly in-
creased, and at times, when many would have
succumbed, she was to the fore in various " mis-
sions." It was not long before she believed it to
be her duty to go for the second time to the
Channel Islands. She was accompanied by her
husband, her friend S. B. S. Clarke and others.
A wheeled chair was taken with them for her use,
and notwithstanding her crippled condition she
was able joyfully to perform the service, though
in her graphic way she wrote to a friend : — " My
LOUISA J. EVENS. 63
«
knee is worse and worse ; there is no apparent
inflammation, but the pain sometimes is ! ! !
The dear folk come home and scramble me off to
some meeting in hot haste ; the streets are nearly
like house sides, and it takes me too long to walk
up with my crutches, and I dare not go down at
all, so I*m perforce trundled along."
Shortly afterwards she held several meetings
in company with a dear friend at Cardiff, Ross,
Almeley, &c.
A visit from a friend who believed in " faith
healing" caused her to write in her diary,
" Ought I to be cured ? I do not feel as if it was
want of faith, so much as the will of God that I
should remain ilL I think I would not choose
if I could. Only let me abide in Thee, and if I
sin in not being cured, show me Thy way, and
grant me power to be healed."
In Eleventh month, 1883, she became aware
of her daughter Louisa's conviction that it was
right for her to offer herself for mission work in
India. With many anxieties pressing upon her,
a weak and suffering body, and the feeling that
was often with her that the end was not far off,
it was hard indeed to resign her much loved
daughter, who had nursed her devotedly through
her terrible sufferings. She was no stoic, but of
«64 ANNUAL MONITOR.
an intensely sensitive and highly-strung nature,
4ind the sacrifice was very real. At the annual
meeting of the Friends* Foreign Mission Associa-
tion, when her daughter's name was mentioned
as one to start that year, the mother's voice was
raised in public dedication and prayer for her
dear child.
On the 19th of Eleventh month, 1886, she
writes : — " Louie sailed in the Mifza'porej for
India. . . . My precious child ! The Master has
indeed been training her many years for her
appointed work, and I am blessed in that so near
and dear a child should be chosen of Him."
Her daughter Agnes had been married the
previous winter, and the following spring she
paid a long visit to her at Sunderland, and wel-
comed to her loving heart a little grandson. A
year of trial and fsdling health followed, and in
the spring of 1888, when really ill herself, she
was summoned to the sick bed of her sister, who
had been taken suddenly with a stroke of para-
lysis. On her return from Norwich, she went to
Alton to spend a week with an intimate friend,
in hope that the rest would do her good. Mind
and body were both weakened by illness and
euffering, but her conversation was full of life and
freshness ; and though oppressed with many
LOUISA J. EVENS. 65
cares, there was a deep-down current of peace
and happiness in the Lord.
A few weeks later she went to stay at her
son's house in Southampton. There she was
taken much worse with an attack of pleurisy ;
other symptoms followed, so that very rapidly
she hecame unconscious, and, surrounded hy
loving hearts, who gladly ministered to her needs,
the suffering body fell asleep and the soul awoke
in the presence of her Lord.
Qeorqe F. Fairbrothbr,
Beamsville, Ontario, 48 7 3 mo. 1888
Joshua Fatle, 54 20 8 mo. 1888
RiclcTnansworth,
Joshua Q. Fennell, 76 7 4 mo. 1888
Monkstown, Dublin.
Edward Fisher, 83 24 3 mo. 1888
Lockwood, near Hvddersjield.
Sarah A. M. B. Flynn,
Bessbrooh 42 18 7 mo. 1888
An Elder. Wife of Thomas M. H. Flynn.
Jake M. A. Fotheroill,
Darlington. 71 25 4 mo. 1888
Wife of William Fothergill.
Ann Fox, St. AiistelL 83 5 3 mo. 1888
An Elder.
Eleanor Fry, 29 8 3 mo. 1888
66 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Mundouy near Maldon. Daughter of Joseph S.
and Eleanor Fry.
Julia Fry, Bath. 72 14 3 mo. 1887
Widow of Thomas Fry.
Mart Frybr, 69 19 9 mo. 1888
Birkenhead. Wife of George Fryer.
Mary Ann Gillivbr, 55 20 1 mo. 1888
Birmingham. Wife of William Gilliver.
Emma C. Gilmore, 52 13 7 mo. 1888
Stockton-on-Tees. Wife of John Gilmore.
Robert W. Glaisyer, 16 2 9 mo. 1888
York. Son of John and Mary Jane Glaisyer.
Amy Green, 18 7 1 mo. 1888
Dundrum, DMin. Daughter of John Green.
Eliza S. Green, 60 16 11 mo. 1887
WaJcefield. Wife of Robert Green.
Edith Grimshaw, 16 9 12 mo. 1887
Sunderland. Daughter of Charles W. and
Margaret Grimshaw.
Betsy Guy, Sedhergh. 69 14 7 mo. 1888
Widow of John Guy.
Joseph Haioh, 82 25 2 mo. 1888
Birdsedge, Highflatts.
Sarah Hale, Cardiff. 87 9 7 mo. 1887
Formerly of Bristol.
Sarah Hall, 69 1 1 mo. 1888
Oxtony Birkenhead. Wife of Edward Hall.
EMILT J. HABDING. 67
Henry Hammer, 78 13 6 mo. 1888
St Austell,
Emily J. Harding, 64 28 12 mo. 1887
Westerfieldy Ipswich. A Minister. Wife of
Robert Harding.
E. J. Harding was the daughter of the late
William and Jane Matthews, and was born at
Coggeshall, the 9th of First month, 1823.
Having early lost her father, and being the
only surviving daughter, she was her mother's
companion till her marriage, excepting during
her school-days. One of her school-fellows at
Croydon describes her as an orderly, thoughtful,
but lighthearted girl. During a few succeeding
years spent at Ipswich, she appears to have passed
through much mental conflict, and dates her more
serious impressions from this period. After a
severe illness, she removed with her mother to
Kelvedon.
On her marriage to Robert Harding in 1848,
Bristol was their home for sixteen months ; but
her health again giving way caused their return
to her native county, where, at Braintree and
Earls Colne, they spent the following seven years,
till their removal to a farm at Great Henny,
near Sudbury. Here she became increasingly
interested in the poor around them, and circum-
68 ANNUAL MONITOB.
stances occurred which introduced her to the
sphere of service in which for many subsequent
years she was diligently engaged, the visiting of
Union Workhouses. She was a warm advocate
of total abstinence from the time of leaving
school, and of late years her assistance was much
sought in publicly promoting it
During this time her journal indicates a
deepening in personal religion, and an earnest
desire for the advancement of the kingdom of
Christ in her own heart, and in the hearts of
those most dear to her.
Her health seriously failiDg, in 1869 they
removed to TVesterfield, near Ipswich, which was
their congenial and peaceful residence during the
remainder of her life.
A little before this period, she first spoke as
a minister in meeting, and in 1873 Woodbridge
Monthly Meeting acknowledged her gift; after
which on several occasions she united with her
husband in religious engagements from home.
In the winter of 1874-5, she had a severe
attack of pleuro-pneumonia, from the effects of
which she never quite recovered. Her own re-
cord of this time will best describe her feelings.
" To Thee, oh my Heavenly Father, would I
offer that which Thou knowest Thou hast Thyself
EMILY J. HARDING. 69
in lovingkindness and tender mercy caused me to
feel, even thanksgiving and praise for the restor-
ing goodness which, after some months of weak-
ness^ Thoa hast granted me. May it please
Thee, if consistent with Thy will, still farther to
permit a return to former health. But I desire
to leave the future in Thy hands, knowing that
Thou hast done and wilt do all things well ; only
grant, I beseech Thee, for Thy dear Son's sake,
that I may profit by all Thy dealings, and be-
come in all things increasingly conformed to Thy
holy will. I long to be holy.
''For some time I was extremely ill, but,
when conscious, was graciously permitted to feel
* the Eock ' firm beneath my feet. In view of
the slender thread of life being severed, very
solemn feelings came over me ; the purity and
holiness of God, the Being before whom I seemed
in vision to stand ; the sins of my childhood,
girlhood and womanhood, rose np before ijie; but,
thanks be unto Him, not then to condemn me.
His forgiving mercy in Christ Jesus having in
the time of health been graciously experienced,
60 that the sweet assurance was granted, that if
taken I should be 'accepted in the Beloved. i
While detained in the border-land, I was taken
as it seemed, near the abode of the lost, but the
70 AlINUAL MONITOR.
entrance remained in mercy closed. Then I
seemed carried to the very gates of heaven, which
were open, and from whence issued songs of joy
and praise. An intimation was given, something
like — * Not yet ; I have more work for thee to do
yet.' . . . One feeling is often uppermost, the
uncertainty of life, the privilege of serving so
faithful a God, and the desire to be used of Him
in gathering souLs to the precious Saviour. Ah !
His preciousness was indeed felt, when very
prostrate, when everything else, anything like
good works, were but as filthy rags ... I would
conclude this entry as I began, with an ascription
of praise to Him who bringeth low and raiseth
up again. I can unite in the lines —
* I would not but have passed those depths,
And such communion known,
As can be held in the Border land
With Him and Him alone.*
The truth and beauty of these lines are much
increased since the experience of the past.''
For some months she was confined at home,
but records her hope, '^ that it may please Thee
oh, my Heavenly Father, to permit me to remain
a sojourner here awhile, and a worker for Thee
in the great harvest field."
This desire was graciously answered, and,
XMILT J. HARDIKO. 71
after some weeks spent in the Channel Islands,
she was able to enter on an enlarged sphere of
labour in her Master's service, especially in visit-
ing the inmates of the neighbouring union work-
houses, as well as those in other districts, when
from home on religious service in England,
Ireland, and the Channel Islands. She ever
found an open door, and in no case was she re-
fused the desired interview, but was often pressed
to repeat the visit. Her memoranda disclose
her earnest endeavour to raise her hearers to a
higher tone in life, and to point the sinner to
Christ. In this service she was much blessed,
not only to the regidar inmates, but also to the
tramps, whom she met on First-days, and often
under her tender pleading the hardened sinner
was contrited as she told him of the love of God
in Christ Jesus.
Cheerfulness was a marked feature in her
character, and as she became more decided in her
Christian course she ever strove to exemplify the
brightness and happiness which she felt should
result from this, desiring to impress, especially
upon the young, that true religion is not a gloomy
thing but a happy and joyous possession. She
had naturally a very keen sense and enjoyment
of the ludicrous, but, believing there was a snare
72 ANNUAL MONITOB.
in its undue indulgence, she was enabled by
DiviDe grace largely to keep it in subjection.
During the last thirteen years of her life she
was diligently engaged in Qospel labour and in
the public and private advocacy of total ab-
stinence, social purity, and preventive work.
In the autumn of 1886 she was prostrated by
illness, from which she partially recovered, so as
to be able to attend Ipswich Meeting in the Sixth
month following, when she was early engaged in
thanksgiving and prayer, followed by impressive
testimony. During the heat of the summer her
weakness increased and disease of the lungs
further developed, attended with cough and much
pain, so that there was no prospect of recovery.
It was a time of again proving the foundation of
her faith. She felt deeply her own unworthiness
and short-coming, but the assurance was granted
that through the mercy of God in Christ Jesus,
she was accepted for His sake. There were times
when the enemy was permitted to try her with a
feeling of irritability, but her prayers for patience
were remarkably answered, and she realised more
and more the peace of God which passes under-
standing, often repeating, as her own experience,
"Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose
mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in
EMILT J. HARDING. 73
Thee/' adding '' Peace, perfect peace ; all is peace ;
it is heaven begun on earth."
Once, when speaking of the past, she said,
'* I have had strong prejudices, but they are all
gone. When I became a Christian, I tried hard
to overcome them." She requested that a message
of her love and interest might be given to the
Friends of her Monthly Meeting. " Tell them
that now on a sick bed, I find nothing that can
give peace and comfort, but the forgiving love of
God in Christ Jesus. What should I do now
without a Saviour? I long that they may be
kept on the right foundation, Jesus Christ ; that
they may use all diligence while in health and
strength, in serving the Lord, and know the peace
and happiness which follow, and not have to
regret, as I have done, opportunities lost."
She much enjoyed having her favourite
portions of [Scripture read ; the 21st and 22nd
chapters of Eevelation were many times chosen.
The 34th Psalm especially expressed her feelings ;
and hymns were a source of comfort and cheer
She also found comfort in hearing the accounts
in the Annual Monitor of those who had trodden
the path before her.
During the last few weeks^ though her weak-
ness was extreme, there was very little pam.
H
74 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Thankfulness and praise filled her heart for her
many blessings and alleviations. ''My mercies
are so many," she sometimes said.
The faithful attentions of an excellent Chris-
tian nurse, and the love and kindness of all aroxmd
her. were gratefully acknowledged as proo£s of
her Heavenly Father's love ; and, whilst feel-
ing tenderly with her dear husband in the pros-
pect of separation, she desired that there might be
a cheerful submission to the Lord's will, saying,
" We have had a very happy life together ; we
have been greatly blessed."
On one occasion she said to her husband,
^' Dearest, if when the end draws near I am unable
to speak, don't think I am not peaceful ; I am
peaceful now ; trustful, as in the hollow of His
hand. It is nothing but the sufficiency of the
grace of God that has enabled me to bear, with
any degree of patience, what this illness has
brought upon me. I do wish all to know that it
is ' not by works of righteousness that we have
done, but according to His mercy He saveth us.'
I wish to make no boast of the wonderful amount
of patience that has been granted me for many
week?, but to magnify the grace of God, beseech-
ing every one, especially the young, to believe in
the Lord Jesus Christ for the salvation of their
EMILT J. HABDINO. 75
souls. I wish, as long as I am able, to testify to
the sufficiency of the grace of God.'*
For many days near the end, there was little
expression, but continued peace and unmurmur-
ing submission. On Christmas evening she was
especially bright, and able to listen to reading.
The last day she was very drowsy ; there was
much change as the night advanced. She asked,
^ Can this be death ? Am I going home V* She
was able lovingly to recognise her dear husband
and others in the room, and responded with ^
sweet smile to the lines : —
** Though painful at present,
'Twill cease before long ;
And then, oh, how pleasant
The conqueror's songt ' .
Power of speech failed, and after half an hour
cf tmconsciousness she gently ceased to breathe
in the early morning of the 28th of Twelfth
month.
Elizabeth C. Harding, 40 4 4 mo. 1888
Beading, Wife of Albert Harding.
Maat Harris, Kendal 68 6 10 mo. 1887
A Minister. Widow of John Harris.
Sidney C. Harris, 2 22 12 mo. 1887
Northampton, Son of Sidney and Annie
Harris.
76 ANNUAL MONITOR.
John Hartlby, 88 14 3 mo. 1888
Hagg Foot^ near Kendal,
Joshua Harvey, M.D., 84 28 11 mo; 1887
Ihiblin.
Thomas Buxton Hawksworth,
66 28 5 mo. 1888
Woodview, near Neupton Abbot.
Barbara J. Helsdon, 8 8 7 mo. 1888
Hertford, Daughter of James and Elizabeth
Helsdon.
Eliza Hodgson^ 43 20 3 mo. 1888
JDewsbury. Wife of Charles Hodgson.
Joseph HoLDEN, 70 18 7 mo. 1888
Shipton.
HicHARD Liberty Hopkins,
48 19 11 mo. 1886
Milton, Brisbane, Queensland,
Maria Horne, 68 21 12 mo. 1887
Marks Tey, Essex,
Mary Horsnaill, 89 1 1 mo. 1888
Dover, Widow of William Horsnaill.
Mary Huntley, 75 20 1 mo. 1888
Beading, An Elder. Wife of Joseph Huntley.
William Sewell Hunton, .
Hastings, 34 3 11 mo. 1887
Son of the late William and Eliza Hunton, of
St. John's Wood.
ANNUAL MONITOR. 77
Mary Ann Jackson, 58 10 7 mo. 1888
Stoke Newington, Wife of Thomas Jackson.
Anne Jacob, 80 16 11 mo. 1887
Waterford»
Jane Tatlor Jacob, 80 2 6 mo. 1888
Cork,
George J. Johnson, 11 14 1 mo. 1888
Chelmsford, Son of Francis and Elizabeth.
Johnson.
I
Hannah Jones, 61 7 4 mo. 1888
Low Conmscliffey near Stockton-ovrTees, Wife of
George Jones.
Mart Kendal, 87 17 4 mo. 1888
Burton-in-Lonsdale, Widow of John Kendal.
Sarah Kenway, 80 24 4 mo. 1888
Clifton, Bristol.
Susan Kerr, Jnn. 16 10 8 mo. 1888
Orange, Co, Tp-one, Daughter of Thomas and
Susan Kerr.
Mercy King, 68 22 9 mo. 1888
St, Anne's, fiear Lytham, Widow of David
King.
Sarah Kitching, 84 5 4 mo. 1888
Bewdley, Wife of Joseph Kitching.
George Horne Labrey,
Baihmines, Dublin, 23 18 10 mo. 1887
Son of John Labrey.
78 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Anna Elizabeth Lamb, 51 20 11 mo. 1887
Bathgar, Dublin.
Lydia Lanet, 79 15 12 mo. 1887
Banwell, near SidcoL Wife of Samuel Laney.
Martha Keeve Leeds, 78 8 6 mo. 1888
Norwood. Wife of Lewis W. Leeds, of Geiman-
town, Philadelphia.
Frederick Tindall Le Tall,
48 20 11 mo. 1887
Handsworth Woodhouse, near Sheffield,
Thomas Lister, 78 25 3 mo. 1888
BarnsUy*
Thomas Lister was widely known amongst
Friends of the last generation. Fifty years ago
he travelled extensively for the purpose of pro-
curing subscribers to a volume of his own poems
entitled the "Rustic Wreath," and his lively
originality of character made him a welcome
visitor in many homes.
Bom a member of the Society of Friends and
educated at Ackworth School, he early developed
poetic and literary tastes; and, whilst quite a
young man, attracted the notice of the late Earl
of Carlisle, then Lord Morpeth, into whose com-
pany he was thrown during one of that nobleman's
election tours in the West Hiding. Thomas
Lister was at that time following the humble
THOMAS LISTEB. 79
occupation of a carter in Barnsley. His intro-
duction to Lord Morpeth was speedily followed
by an offer of more congenial employment as
postmaster of his native town. An unexpected
obstacle, however, presented itself ; an oath was
then required to be taken by all post-office officials,
and Thomas Lister felt himself unable to comply
with that to which he felt a conscientious objec-
jection. He accordingly relinquished the ofifered
post, explaining to his patron, in a grateful letter
of thanks, the reason for his refusal. Struck by
the firmness of his young friend, Lord Morpeth
made further inquiries into the subject, and was
instrumental in passing through Parliament a
measure which permitted the substitution of a
simple declaration instead of an oath in such cases.
The office shortly afterwards again became vacant,
and was once more offered to Thomas Lister,
who accepted its responsibilities, and for many
years performed its duties with much acceptance
amongst his townsmen. In this position he was
greatly aided by the energy and business ability
of his wife, to whom he was married about the
time of his removal to the post-office.
Hannah Lister was not, however, at this time
a Friend, and, in accordance with the then pre-
vailing practice in the Society, her husband had
80 ANNUAL MONITOR
to relinquisli his membership. Many years after^
wards, however, he was invited by Pontefract
Monthly Meeting to resume his forfeited position^
and during the latter period of his life he became
a valued member of the little meeting at Barnsley.
Soon after this occurrence his wife was also ad-
mitted, at her own request.
During the many years of comparative leisure
which followed T. Lister's retirement from his
official duties, he was much absorbed in literary
and scientific pursuits. He was a well-known
figure at the meetings of the British Association,
and occasionally contributed short papers to its
proceedings. An ardent naturalist and a keen
observer of the works of the Great Creator, he
delighted to collect around him those interested
in kindred subjects, to whom he freely imparted
his own stores of knowledge.
He early became impressed with the impor-
tance of the Temperance cause, and was a well-
known advocate of its claims in his own district.
Though usually reticent on religious subjects, he
possessed a reverent and devout mind; and in his
later years showed an increasing appreciation of
the claims of religion, as well as of the interests
of the Church with which he was identified.
Entertaining a very humble estimate of himself
THOMAS LISTER. 81
epiritually, he was still ever ready to defend
what he bel ieved to be right and true, and in his
intercourse with others was often faithful in
bearing his testimony against what he felt to be
wrong. He evinced a strong interest in the
Friends' Adult School in Barnsley, and his latest
public appearance was on its platform, when he
delivered a short address to the men present
In 1882 Thomas Lister passed through one
of the greatest sorrows of his life in the removal
from his side of his wife, after a happy and help-
ful union of more than forty years.
His own last illness was of short duration.
In the spring of 1888 he returned home from a
few weeks' stay at Matlock, apparently much
benefited by the change ; but shortly afterwards
an attack of bronchitis, supervening on a slight
paralytic seizure, proved too much for his already
broken health, and after a few days of restlessness
and suffering he passed away. Though his last
hours were not marked by much religious expres-
sion, it is believed that he rested on the true
Foundation, His evident enjoyment in listening
■
to the precious promises of Holy Scripture was
cheering and confirming.
His funeral, which was largely attended by
all classes of his neighbours, as well as by many
82 ANNUAL MONITOR.
from a distance, was felt to be an occasion of much
solemnity, and several striking testimonies were
borne to the general appreciation felt for hi»
character.
Jane Little, Carlisle, 63 22 12 mo. 1887
John Eeles Littleboy, 62 3 8 mo. 1888
Hunton Bridge, near Watford,
J. E. Littleboy was taken at short notice &om
a life of much usefulness. For some years the
death of his wife, and the marriage of his only
child, had rendered his lot a solitary one. Being
liberated from family cares he devoted himself to
the good of those around him, being more parti-
cularly engaged in Temperance work, and his
place will not be easily filled.
He was an attached member of the Society
of Friends, and a frequent attender of the Meeting
for Sufferings, where his presence and help were
appreciated.
In the course of his last illness he gave no
uncertain testimony that his hope for eternity
rested upon the love of God in Christ Jesus.
Elizabeth Long, 63 17 12 mo. 1887
Teddington, Wife of Charles Long, late of
Saffron Walden.
Joseph Lucas, 52 12 11 mo. 1887
Sunderland,
ANNUAL MONITOR. 83
William Lunt, 71 30 12 mo. 1887
Stoke-on-TrerU.
Jane Magkib, — 15 1 mo. 1887
Newport, Isle of Wight, Widow of Benjamin
Mackie.
Patsr MACKINNON, 56 19 4 mo. 1888
North Ormesby.
Hannah Mainwaring, 68 25 7 mo. 1888
Upcott, Almeley,
William Malonb, 38 15 6 mo. 1888
Dvhlin,
Lucy Marriagx, 71 4 1 mo. 1888
Colchester, Wife of Edward Marriage.
Sophia Marrl^gb, 82 24 4 mo. 1888
Chelmsford, A Minister.
£lL£N. Marsh, Jlfarpae^. 76 20 11 mo. 1887
Widow of Edward Marsh.
Emily Mason, 67 24 5 mo. 1888
Tramore, WaJterford,
Eric Stafford Maw, 10 10 6 mo. 1888
Sudbury, Son of Samuel A. and Edith M. Maw
Frederick Mawbr, 45 6 7 mo. 1888
€heUenha/m,
Sarah Mills, 71 27 2 mo. 1888
RochddU, An Elder. Wife of James Mills.
WilllalM Milward, 58 18 2 mo. 1888
Rwhmondy Surrey,
84 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Anne MoRaAN, Boss. 85 31 12 mo. 1887
Hannah Morland, 89 19 7 mo. 1888
Croydon, An Elder. Widow of John Morland.
William Eussell Morris^
Kingstown, Dublin. 40 19 11 mo. 1887
Ernest S. Morrison, 2 22 3 mo. 1888
Ballintore, Son of Joseph and Rebekah Morri-
son.
James Turtle Neale, 38 2 12 mo. 1887
Kanturk, Co, Cork, Son of Henry Neale.
Marianne Nicholson, 85 22 12 mo. 1887
Headingley, Leeds, Widow of W. F. Nichol-
son, of Whitehaven.
Marianne Noakes, 62 23 10 mo. 1888
EedMll, Wife of Richard Noakes.
Mary E. Pakbman, 36 5 12 mo. 1886
East London, So^ith Africa, Wife of A. Pake-
man.
Margaret A. Parker, 40 11 11 mo. 1886
Durham, Wife of James Parker.
Giles Partington, 72 10 1 mo. 1888
Bolton,
Elizabeth Pearce, 57 16 12 mo. 1887
Derby, Wife of Orlando Pearce.
Harrison Penney, 60 27 3 mo. 1888
Darlington. A Minister.
Harrison Penney was bom at Poole, in Dor-
HARBISON FENin&T. 85
setsliire, on the 2l8t of Eleyentk month, 1827.
His school days were spent at Croydon. At the
close of his apprenticeship to the stationery and
pripting business with Arthur Wallis at Brighton,
be left for Loodon ; but he shortly afterwards
purchased a business in Darlington, which he
carried on till his decease, a period of nearly
forty years. He was kindly received by Friends
in his new location, and was soon actively en-
gaged during spare time in Temperance and other
work.
In 1852 he married Maria I' Anson, of Bishop
Auckland, and speaks of the period of their union
as " thirty years of as happy married life as falls
to the lot of any.''
In 1864, H. P. believed it his duty to accom-
pany Isaac Sharp on a religious visit to Green-
land. Only those who have passed through a
somewhat similar experience can realise what it
cost him to leave a, loving wife and little chil-
dren to venture on such a journey. They sailed
from Hull in Fourth month, 1864, and reached
the scene of their labours after a voyage of about
six weeks. The hearts of the missionaries in
that lone land were greatly cheered by the visit,
and the voyagers returned in the Eleventh month,
and found aU well at home. H. P. looked back
I
^6 ANNUAL MONITOR.
upon the journey with feelings of deep thankful-
ness for preservation from many dangers ; but he
felt that it had been somewhat marred by what
he deemed an act of unfaithfulness in not accom-
panying Isaac Sharp on a little visit to an out-
lying settlement. The homeward-bound vessel,
ready to sail, was waiting day by day for the
•clearing of the ice, and he greatly dreaded the
severance from home during an Arctic winter,
should the skin boat, by which they must go to
the settlement, not return in time for the sailing
of the ship. Isaac Sharp did so return, and
always felt that his companion and fellow-
labourer was fully justified in going only a small
part of the journey.
Harrison Penney was recorded a minister in
3875, and in 1880 his family moved to the village
of Gainford, the dear wife and mother being much
•out of health. His presence at the small meeting
there was much appreciated, as also at the Wes-
leyan and Congregational chapels. He took espe-
•cial delight in cottage meetings, where those who
^thered loved to hear his simple, homely, earnest
words.
The death of his wife in 1882 caused a blank
which he deeply felt for the rest of his life, so
entirely were they united by the bonds of Chris-
HARRISON PENNEY. 8T
tian fellowship and deep affection. His children
always felt that they had his entire sympathy in
all that interested them. After the return fromr
Sunday school, lecture, or walk, his greeting was
'^ Tell me all you have seen or done;" so that they
felt that he was mother as well as father to them,
his presence always bringing joy and the assurance
that all would be right if he were there.
At the end of 1882 H. P. joined many other
Friends in conducting a General Meeting in
Birmingham, and greatly enjoyed the social and
religious intercourse thus afforded. His service
both in private and public was helpful to many»
Referring to one occasion, he writes : '' I gave
such advice and comfort as I could, promising to
help with my prayers. How many there are
who long for Christian communion, a fellow-
creature's ear into which to unburden anxiety
and care. They well know that there is an ear
ever open to their cry, and into this hearing ear
they do tell their troubles ; but still they long
for more of the communion of saints. Why are
the saints so reluctant to speak one to another ?
In the spring of 1884 he received a minute
from his Monthly Meeting, encouraging him to
visit Friends of Sussex, Surrey and Hants,
his native Quarterly Meeting. He held social
88 ANNUAL MONITOR.
religious meetings at most of the places Le
visited, a service for wliich he was eminently
qualified.
His unaffected love for all his fellow-creatures
led him to take a personal interest in every one
whom he met. *' The little child running into
his shop to ask a simple question ; the stranger
to Darlington entering for the first time to make a
purchase ; and the apparently hopeless drunkard
encouraged by him to one more effort to reform,
alike felt that Harrison Penney was their true
friend." He used to say he had preached more
sermons over his shop-counter than in any other
way. His firnmess in consistently following out
what he thought to be right was carried into the
smallest matters. Any one wishing him to sell
raffling tickets — a circus or theatre manager
wanting bills printed — was always met with a
refusal so kind and straightforward, coupled with
a little well-chosen advice, that it was seldom
known to give offence.
After the death of Charles I'Anson, Harrison
Penney took his First-day afternoon service at
the Hospital. This grew to be one of his chief
delights, and a real interest he took in the poor
sufferers who eagerly looked for his bright and
happy face, as well as for the cheering and com-
HAERISON PENNEY, 89
forting words with which he was wont to greet
them. The "little service," as he used to say
they were pleased to call it, but he preferred
some simpler word, consisted of hymns which
the patients generally selected, sometimes learn-
ing to sing them on purpose to give him pleasure,
and a very simple exposition of some Bible
narrative. One of the hymns sung at the last
these happy times, was that which begins, —
* Only a little while
Of walking with weary feet,
Patiently over the thorny way
That leads to the golden street."
And the last verse is, —
*' Only a little while,
For toiling a few short days ;
And then comes the rest, the quiet rest^
Eternity's endless praise.*'
And in a very " few short days " there came for
him the rest, " the quiet rest — Eternity's endless
praise." He would often visit those who had
returned to their homes, some restored, some
never to be well again. On one occasion he
joined in a social gathering of the friends of a
mill-girl who had been injured, but who, on re-
turning home restored to health, had invited her
companions to join her at tea. One of his last
aets of kindness was to write a letter three days
90 ANNUAL MONITOR.
before his death to a patient in whom he was
much interested) which illustrates his usual kind
thoughtfulness.
" Dear , I am sorry that I have lately
spent so little time by your bedside, being per-
haps too long in the other rooms, and then hurried
away to the Young Men's Christian Association.
Still I have thought much about yoa, and so
warmly desire that you may see clearly that
Jesus is your own, your personal Saviour. We
know we are sinners, and that a sinner must
have a Saviour, or he cannot enter Heaven.
There is no choice of Saviours, and there need not
he, for in Jesus we have all that can be needed :
tens of thousands have proved it. So, my dear
friend, lay every hindering weight, difficulty, or
doubt, on one side, and, in simple faith, ask Him
to take you as you are, and He will be sure to
do so, and give you peace and rest and strength
to bear your sickness.
" I am sorry I am not likely to see you
to-morrow, though I am better. My love is to
you alV*
Visitors to his family were often taken to
see the matron, and those under her care, whom
he spoke of as " my poor friends at the hospital."
The cause of Peace was especially near to
HARRISON PENNET. 91
his heart, and many were the commanications
on this subject which passed between him and
military men who were connected with various
religious efforts. In 1881 he issued " An Appeal
to those who bear the name of Christian, and
who hold commissions in the army and navy ; "
and much interesting correspondence resulted
between him and soldiers who were identified
with Christian work.
During the last two years of Harrison Pen-
ney's life his strength was very much reduced by
severe bilious attacks, which returned periodically,
causing intense pain. At the first symptoms he
would say, " 'Tis my old visitor coming again."
Harrogate, Ilkley, and Bournemouth were visited
in quest of restored strength, the latter a few
months before his death.
The last First-day on which he took his
usual duties, and when he was taken ill, was one
full of work for his Master. He accompanied
his daughter and niece to meeting in the morning;
in the afterpoon he went as usual to his little
service at the hospital ; then to the Bible Class
at the Young Men's Christian Association, and
from thence he walked out to a little village
chapel where he was to take the service. Be-
coming very ill, he was not able to go into the
92 ANNUAL KONITOR.
chapel, and returned home suffering intensely.
His family did not anticipate so severe an attack
as usual, but the end of the week found him very
weak and wishing to be quite quiet, having no
inclination to rouse himself, though he was down-
stairs and comparatively free from pain. When
a friend visited him for a few minutes in the
evening of his last First-day on earth he said : —
"This has been a poor day, no work for the
Master ; " but his beautiful patience and love for
every one was a work for Him. The complaint
unexpectedly took the form of blood-poisoning,
and he quickly sank, and died on Third-day, the
27th of Third month. Several of his children
were absent, but quickly returned, missing in-
tensely the loving, hearty welcome, which had
always been given by their beloved father, whose
next welcome would be to the Heavenly Home.
The funeral was attended by a great number
of people representing all classes. Several ministers
of the town, thinking it was a fitting occasion for
a memorial meetinpf, arranged for this on the
following evening. Universal sorrow and respect
were shown by a crowded gathering in the chief
public hall of the town. One speaker very truly
said that if Harrison Penney could have been
consulted about such a meeting he would have
JANE FBIESTMAN. 93
said : ^ If it is your wish to exalt the Master, have
it ', but if the mom^ I should say emphatically
No."
Jane Pebcival, 87 9 9 mo. 1888
Bturgh-hy-Sands, Carlisle, Widow of John
Percival.
Elizabeth Petchell^ 91 6 10 mo. 1888
Hull, Widow of Samuel Petchell.
Sophia Peters, 81 9 6 mo. 1888
Clevedon, Widow of John Peters.
Ltdia Pim, Carlow, 89 18 5 mo. 1888
Susanna Pim, 50 6 1 mo. 1888
Monkstown, Dvhlin, Wife of Thomas Pim, Jun.
Ann Platt, 67 3 7 mo. 1888
Westkoughton, Wife of James Platt.
Jane Pbiestman, 85 6 6 mo. 1888
Manninghanif Bradford, An Elder. Widow
of Joshua Priestman.
Jane Priestman was the widow of Joshua
Priestmau, of ThorntoD, near Pickering. She
was not one who often spoke of her Christian
experience, but the reality of her faith was plainly
manifest to all with whom she came in contact.
The greater part of her life was spent at
Thornton, where she took a leading interest in
all the village institutions that were calculated to
help both old and young, either in religious or
94 ANNUAL MONITOR.
secular matters, and in a quiet way brought joy
to many of the poor and needy.
Her bright and cheerful spirit was conspi*
cuous during a long and painful illness. She
frequently expressed her thankfulness for the
many mercies by which she was surrounded, and
spoke of her faith in the Saviour whom she had
long loved and delighted to serve. He was her
strength and her stay, and we rejoice in believing
that His promise has been realised to her, '' Where
I am, there shall also my servant be."
John Bichabdson Proctsr,
76 11 10 mo. 1888
Clenienthorpe, North Shields, An Elder.
In the obituary last year, we simply recorded
the name of Lydia Mildred Procter, and now, at
the close of another, it is ours to add that of her
father, John Bichardson Procter, who, though in
comparative health, was called home after an ill«
ness of only about forty-eight hours. In the case
of the daughter there were weeks of alternation
between hope and fear, and many hours for her of
pain and failing strength, which she bore with
true patience and cheerful acquiescence in her
Heavenly Father's will.
It was different with the dear father, who,
up to this time, bad been able regularly to pur*
JOHN BICHARDSON PROCTER. 95
sue his duties, public and private, when, after
attending a somewhat prolonged sitting of the
Eiver Tyne Commission, he hurried up the hill to
the railway station, and on reaching home a
serious attack afifecting the heart's action came
on. He partially rallied during the following
day, though the presence of pain and diminution
of strength clearly showed his critical condition.
Of this he seemed fully aware, but it found him
calm and trustful, willing to " lie passive" in the
hand of a loving Father ; and, though sensible
that he was entering *' the dark valley," able to
acknowledge the Saviour's presence, and that
there was " light beyond."
He was the son of Joseph and Elizabeth
Procter, of North Shields. His father died when
he was only two years old, and his mother when
he was eight, leaving a family of six children,
who, though so young, continued in after life to
feel her influence. She was a most affectionate
and devoted mother, yet she was enabled to leave
her dear children in the faith that they would be
cared for ; and in the case of each of them this
seamed remarkably fulfilled. On the 16th of
Sixth month, 1847, J. R. P. was married to Lydia
Bichardson, the daughter of William and Martha
Eichardson, of Cherry Hill, York, a union
96 ANNUAL MONITOR.
which was permitted to contiaue for fortj-one
years.
J. B. Procter was a regular aittender of the
meetings of the Society, in the welfare of which
he took a great interest. He was never called to
the ministry, nor did he speak much on religious
subjects. When taking part in the business
meetings of Friends, or in public affairs, his
utterances were usually short, but clear and direct
as regards the point at issue, and it has been re-
marked that his judgment was good, his toleration
large, and his kindly catholic spirit slow to con-
demn, and quick to approve.
He had a very humble estimate of his own
Christian attainments, but was ever desirous to-
be found in the path of duty, and it has been
felt that in his daily life and example he has
often been permitted to be a blessing to those
around.
He was a peacemaker in every sense of the
word ; a lover of peace in the abstract, and in
every-day life. The cheerful goodwill and kind-
liness of disposition which characterised him,
together with the large degree of consistent ad-
herence to a high standard of Chriistian duty in
his daily life and dealings with others, were, as it
has since been made evident;, a living sermon to*
JOHN RICHARDSON PROCTER. QT
many. Perhaps we may be allowed to quote a
few lines from a letter written by a friend to one
of his sons shortly after his death, which seems-
to us to put into few words some of the points of
character which have caused him to be lovingly
regarded by so many of tliose who knew him.
" My memory goes back to the time when your
father visited York before his marriage, and
when we, who were then children, knew him
as a Friend who was kind to boys. Now, for
many years, I have been able to understand
something of the rare excellence and beauty of
his character ; a gentleness that would never
willingly give ofl'ence, combined with an un-
bending firmness on all matters of principle, and
a judgment so sound and clear that one always
suspected the truth of one's own conclusions if
they differed from his. I apprehend that this
power of judgment was not merely a natural
gift, but that it was greatly strengthened by
the singleness of purpose which was so marked
a feature in your father's character."
J. K. P. was much interested in the work
of education, both in the schools of the Society
of Friends and those of his native town of North
Shields, with most of which he had been asso-
ciated for very many years. He felt that the
t98 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Christian cannot rightly exclude himself from
•duties which involve the benefit of others, and
he was ready to promote any movement for the
public good. He served for many years on the
Town Council, but could never see his way clear
to accept the office of mayor, because he was
unwilling, even nominally, as chief magistrate,
•to sanction the tendering of an oath.
He was a member of the Board of Guardians
for over forty years, and for more than half this
period his character for impartiality was shown
by his being annually called upon to assume the
post of Chairman over its deliberations.
In his trade. as a tanner he bore a character
'for high integrity, and the following sentences
from one with whom he was closely brought into
contact in his business dealings may bring out
one or two points with regard to such matters.
"Losing my own father at about the age of
fourteen, our business relations brought me into
'frequent contact with Mr. Procter, to whom we
owe a debt of gratitude for counsel and advice
which has been greatly to our advantage. It was
my custom to consult your father whenever we
thought of making any investment outside of
business, and we have never known an instance
iin which his judgment was at fault. In two
JOHN BICHABDSON PBOCTER. 99^
or three instances the large dividends from steami
sliipping were too much for ns to withstand, and,
acting contrary to your, father's admonition to
have nothing to do with shipping property, we
invested, and came out much the poorer for our
neglect of his advice. If I have taken too much,
upon me in communicating with the Trade Journal,
I can assure you it has arisen from my profound
respect for the high character and the unflinching
integrity of your late father, whose very presence
acted as an inspiration to right doing."
While we feel sure that the subject of this
little sketch would not have assented to the
estimate of his character here set forth, we believe
that in thus offering it we desire only to show
that it was his consistent endeavour conscien-
tiously to serve God according to the strength
and abilities afforded him, which enabled John
Richardson Procter, a plain man with only an
old-fashioned day-school education, to lead a life
of usefulness to his fellow-men, and in many
ways to set a high example to those who knew
and loved him.
John Purdt, 70 10 2 mo. 188a
Grange, Co, Tyrone,
Mary Ramsey, 77 30 11 mo. 188T
Dublin, Widow of Alexander Ramsey.
100 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Rachel Reed. 74 7 12 mo. 1887
Croydon, An Elder.
GuLiELMA Richardson, 69 1 2 mo. 1888
Plymouth, Widow of Edward Richardson,
late of Torquay.
Henry C. Richardson,
21 28 4 mo. 1888
Overdone Grange, Northampton, Son of Henry
and Emma Richardson.
Jane Riselet, 61 4 4 mo. 1888
Finedon, Northampton,
Hannah M. Robinson, 66 15 7 mo. 1888
York, Wife of Christopher Robinson.
Jane Robinson, 75 1 1 mo. 1888
Moate, Ireland,
Henry Ellythorp Robson,
Reigate, 88 25 1 mo. 1888
" The path of the just is as the shining light
which shineth more and more unto the perfect
day."
How often has this testimony been ex-
emplified in the lives of the Lord's children
from one generation to another ! The subject of
this brief memoir was one in whom this was par-
ticularly the case.
Henry Ellythorp Robson was born at Stain-
drop, Durham, on the 9th of First Month, 1802,
HENRY ELLYTHORP ROBSON. 101
and was the son of Stephen and Sarah Robson.
The death of his father in early life deprived him
of the advantage of his training, but he was care-
fully instructed by his mother in the knowledge
of the Scriptures. Taught to seek after the Lord,
to listen to and obey the voice of His Spirit, he
was enabled to find in Jesus a Saviour, bringing
him reconciliation, forgiveness, and peace ; and
becoming to him a very present teacher, guide,
and counsellor.
With a deep sense of his own unworthiness,
and a humbling realisation of his natural fail-
ings and weakness, were mingled a child-like
clinging to the grace of Christ for help and
strength, and a devout trust in God as his
Heavenly Father, whose compassionate love and
mercy are so perfectly revealed through His
beloved Son.
Whilst still a young man he settled in Liver-
pool, commencing business as a cotton broker, in
which he continued for many years. In 1830 he
was united in marriage to Mary, daughter of
Thomas and Hannah Binns. This union was
severed by her death in 1855, after a protracted
and sujBfering illness, borne with great patience
and Christian resignation. There is an interesting
memorial of her from his own pen in the Annual
102 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Monitor for 1856. She was a woman possessed
of superior mental powers combined with much
sweetness of disposition and refinement of cha-
racter, always exerting her influence helpfully to
her husband, encouraging him to pursue the path
of duty, and aiding him in his endeavours to
bring up their children in harmony with the
principles, of the religious Society to which they
were both so warmly attached. They had three
sons and six daughters, of whom one son and
three daughters now survive.
H. E. Robson felt a lively interest in the
welfare of the Society in which he had enjoyed
so many advantages, and took an active part for
many years in the administration of its affairs in
his own locality. At the early age of thirty he
was appointed an Elder, a service for which he
was well qualified by his sympathetic nature and
tenderness of spirit, which drew him into near
feeling with the exercise and service of the
ministry. His discriminating judgment made
his counsel and help often very valuable to those
engaged in this work. For some years he was
Clerk to his Monthly Meeting, to the Quarterly
Meeting of Lancashire, and to the Meeting of
Ministers and Elders as then constituted.
He possessed a cheerful and genial nature.
HENRY ELLTTHORP ROBSON. 103
endearing him to both old and young ; his kindly
and considerate disposition led him to cherish
the virtues of others, and made him careful not
to speak or act to their hurt
In 1864, he married Elizabeth, widow of
William J. Bryan, of New Orleans, who with
her three daughters had some years before re-
turned to England. Shortly afterwards he re-
tired from business, and spent several years at
his residence near Windermere, taking great de-
light in rural life, and in the enjoyment of
the beauties and grandeur of nature exhibited
all around this charming home of his later
years.
As advancing age came on his natural buoy-
ancy and physical energy flagged, and his spirits
were frequently depressed ; but the loving sympa-
thy and patient and ever-watchful care of his be-
loved wife, tended greatly to soothe and cheer
his declining days, until, at the ripe age of eighty-
six, it pleased the Lord to gather him home to
the spirits of just men made perfect, to share the
service of the redeemed of all generations in the
everlasting kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.
He died the 25th of First month, 1888, at Love-
lands, near Beigate, where he had resided the
last few years of his life.
104 ANNUAL MONITOR.
John Stephenson BoBSON, 86 22 4 mo. 1888
Saffron Walden. An Elder.
J. S. Bobson was a lover of the Annual
Monitor-; he perused its volumes over and over
again, and it seems fitting to place some little
record of his life on its pages. He was bovn on
the Ist of Third month, 1802, and was the last
survivor of the children of the late Thomas and
Elizabeth Robson.
Throughout his lengthened life he was
possessed of a naturally sunshiny spirit, which,
illuminated by the Sun of Eighteousness, reflected
warmth and brightness to those around. His
humility and child-like disposition would have
led him to be one of the last to wish anything
recorded about him except in so far as it would
bring glory to Him who made him what he was.
He was not a man of words so much as of loving,
kindly, unselfish deeds ; and, from having early
yielded his heart to the Lord, he was enabled to live
in no common degree a life lifted above the jars, and
worries, and failings, that too bften mar the vessels
intended to be beautiful for Him. The following
extracts from his diary speak for themselves.
In early life we find this entry, after alluding
to a religious visit paid to him : —
^^ First month 23rdy 1821.— I do earnestly
JOHK STEPHENSON BOBSON. 105
desire on my own account that I may be pre-
fierved from following the evil spirit, and look
unto the Good. Spirit with a single eye, and I
believe He will be pleased to enlighten me' ; for,
as Christ said in His Sermon on the Mount, ' If
thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full
of light/"
^^ First month 31«^, 1821. — I attended our
week-day meeting, wherein I thought I was
favoured to feel something of the overshadowing
of Divine love upon me, and was encouraged to
believe I was increasing in the knowledge of the
truth ; and I felt a considerable degree of com-
fort thereby."
A visit from Nathan Hunt during this year
■appears to have resulted in fuller dedication of
heart, as he now speaks of " being ready to take
up the cross, and follow Christ"
Sixth month \Qthy 1821. — In writing of the
death of a young companion, J. S. B. says : —
" Oh ! how careful I ought to be ! I hope to
become increasingly w^atchful, so as to be pre-
pared for the awful day, come sooner or later, so
that I may have nothing to fear, . . . and at the
end of my days obtain a place in the Heavenly
City, where I shall be at rest for ever and ever."
" Seventh month 7th» — I often feel grieved
106 ANNUAL MONITOR.
that I sometimes give way to light conversation,
which I believe is hurtful to me, and I think I
will not do so again ; yet I am tempted again to
talk unprofitably, and use many superfluous
words, which are much better avoided. I feel
sorry for it afterwards. And how foolish it is ; I
never find it does me any good. But I intend
from this time not to yield to hurtful temptations
of any kind, but endeavour, through the influence
of the Holy Spirit, to do His will, and be an
example to those who are inclined to converse in
a light, unprofitable manner/'
After a break of nearly twenty years J. S. B,
resumed his diary, and records the way in which
he had been led since his marriage with Bachel
Green, in 1827, a union which lasted over sixty
years. He writes : — " May we, above all, during
the residue of our days, devote all that we have
and all that we are to the service of Him who
shed His precious blood upon the cross."
Under the same date he mentions the births
of his children, and the death of one sweet little
boy ; and concludes with the following words : —
''May these, our dear children, each one for
themselves, choose the Lord for their portion;
this is what I desire for them above anything
that this world can afford,"
JOHN STBPHENSON ROBSON. 107
" Second month I4thf 1844. — I went to Stort-
ford to see J, H, respecting valuing his stock,
which I have agreed to commence doing on Third-
day next. . . . May I be preserved during the
few days I may be engaged in it from having
my n^ind too much engrossed with the business,
whilst I am endeavouring to do strict justice to
my employer, which certainly requires close
application and judgment ; but I believe nothing
will be lost, and no inconvenience will arise in
the business by having an eye continually to the
Saviour, but quite the reverse
" Second morUh 25th, 1844. — ^On looking back
at my last week's employment, that of valuing
stocks, which I have frequently been engaged
in, I have a doubt as to the propriety of ever
undertaking another, although it is a lucrative
business ; but I feel it to be an overcharge of
business, to the hindrance of a growth in the
truth. Yet I do not think it necessarily follows
that it should be so, but I feel myself a very
poor weak creature."
It is believed that this was the last time
J. S. R. undertook a valuation.
'< Third month 25th, 1844.— I often take a
solitary walk, partly for exercise, but princi-
pally to meditate on the goodness of the Lord,
108 ANNUAL MONITOR.
with earnest endeavour to feel after His Divine
presence. This was the case about dusk this
evening, and I thought I was favoured to feel a
little renewal of strength, and felt encouraged to
persevere. My heart was also raised in gratitude
for the many comforts, temporal and spiritual,
with which I am surrounded, and the thought
was raised, " What shall I render unto Thee for
all Thy benefits ? "
" Fourth month 2bihf 1844. — This morning,
about half an hour before going to meeting, I
sat down to read, that I might find it more easy
to have my mind abstracted from outward thoughts
when met with my friends ; but in a few minutes
after I began, one of the surveyors called upon
me, ... so that I had to hurry to meeting, and my
mind was so much taken up with the subject
we had just been upon, 1 found it hard work to
draw my attention from it ; indeed I was harassed
with it most of the time ; but towards the con-
clusion I was a little comforted with the recol-
lection of the passage in James, ' Besist the devil,
and he will flee from you ; draw nigh unto God,
and He will draw nigh unto you.' I believe there
may be often an advantage before going to meet-
ing in particular, in endeavouring to get as much
as possible out of the hurry of business.'
JOHN STEPHENSON ROBSON. 109
** Twdfth month eth, 1844.--Weiit to West
Wickham " (a business journey ), " and my mind
was almost entirely employed in seeking after the
Saviour whilst travelling. I feel a degree of
strength at such times, which is comforting to
me ; it was so this day, and although I felt very
poor, yet such a comfortable feeling overspread
my mind that tears flowed from my eyes/'
In Eighth month, 1843, J. S. B. was ap-
pointed to the station of Elder, the duties of
which he desired faithfully to fulfil.
*•' Eleventh month 2l8t, — Had some serious
conversation with a young man at Thaxted,
whilst transacting business with him, on the
importance of a religious life ; I hope not with-
out profit to us both. This evening gave some
advice to a young man who has been in the
occasional habit of drinking to excess : it was
given in the spirit of love, and was well received.
The man confessed his error, and thanked me for
my interest in his case."
" Eleventh month 2nd, 1847. — In walking
out this afternoon I fell in with , and had
some conversation with him on religious subjects.
May I be watchful that when conversing on
subjects of highest importance I do no hurt to
the cause of the dear Bedeemer."
ii
110 ANNUAL MONITOR.
"Fourth month 19th, 1847.—On taMng a
retired walk this evening alone, I felt an earnest
desire to become more devoted to the cause of
Truth. This is very often the case with me ;
but I sometimes fear I make no progress, so many
outward subjects crowd in upon me ; but I was
a little comforted and encouraged this evening,
and the desire was raised that my dearest Bachel
and all our beloved children, with myself, might
be of one heart and one mind in living so loose
from the world, that we might be found in such
a state as to be ever worshipping the Father in
spirit and in truth, and to do our day's work in
the day time."
In the year 1850, J. S. B. travelled as
companion to Thomas Amott, a minister from
America, on the Continent of Europe, and after
entering an account of this journey and recording
the death of his father in 1852 his diary closes.
In the year 1881, J. S. Kobson had a very
painful illness, which lasted for several months,
during which his example of patience and rest-
fulness was very marked. When asked the
secret of this, he replied, " Feeling there is a
Rock underneath, and being kept and helped
by a higher power than my own."
His health again failed on the day of the
JOHN STKPHENSON BOBSON. Ill
Queen's Jubilee, in 1887, when for the last time
he walked out. This ten months' illness was
l»orne with exemplary patience and sweetness;
he had had much enjoyment of life, but now
that its evening had come he was content to rest.
Though often suffering acute pain, there was no
complaining ; " he knew it was all right,'' and in
his sick-room there was an atmosphere of calm-
ness and peace, and he was often favoured with
the felt presence of his Saviour. During the
early part of his illness he said to one of his
daughters-in-law : '^ I think I can say I have
nothing in my heart but love — love flowing to
everyone. I don't know that I have an enemy
in the world ; it is love to everybody. I do not
love the ways of everyone, but I love them — I
love their souls ;" and then, fearing lest it should
seem like taking anything to himself, he added,
" I am such a poor creature — nothing at all —
nothing of my own whatever."
Sixth month 2Qth. — On his wife remarking
to him that she believed he was ready for the
call to come up higher, he replied, ^' It will be a
great favour if it is so ; I have not one thread to
trust to in myself ; it is all of free mercy. Jesus
died for sinners**
On the 6th of Seventh month the tests in
112 AKNXJAL HONITOB.
'* Daily Light" were read to him, and he
remarked on the sweetness of the verses. In
reference to the one, " GU>d so loved the world,^
&c., he saidy '^ Yes, glorious thought ! God loves
the world — Ood loves me"
I7th, — He remarked, <' What a hlessed thing
that there is forgiveness with Him ! When I
look back on my past life, I see so many wrong
things, so much that I have to regret.'' He then
alluded to the blessing of having '' an Almighty
Saviour ; " adding, " He has been my Rock and
my Hiding-place. Christ is just the Saviour we
need."
The last two or three weeks of his life he
slept much, but when awake was generally quite
clear, and able to take an interest in what was
going on, and was most loving to those around
him. His welcome to his grandchildren will not
be forgotten by them. His dear wife and various
members of the family enjoyed the evening hours
by his bedside, when many hymns and portions
of Scripture were repeated to him, and sometimes
by him, when able ; but he was too weak to con-
verse much. The 23rd Psalm was a great
favourite, and was one of the last portions of
Scripture he was heard to quote, when he sub-
stituted in the last verse the words **have
JOHN BTEPHENSON ROBSON. 113
foUowed^' for " shall follow me all the dajs of my
life."
Hftb. iii. 17, 18, was a passage he specially
loyed, as having been so helpful to him in time*
past; and the way in which he repeated with very
trembling though most fervent voice, "Yet I
will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the Qod of
my salvation/' will long be remembered by those
who were with him.
Four days of restlessness and partial uncon-
sciousness preceded his death ; but even then the
pnrity and sweetness of his spirit were evinced ;
such expressions as "Soon going Home/' and
** This is dying, I believe, and that is going to
Heaven/' were words full of comfort to those
who loved him — ^proofs, if any were needed, that
the Saviour was supporting His aged servant to
the very end ; and when the last breath was
drawn, his family could return thanks that he
had been received into one of those mansions
which Jesus has prepared for His redeemed ones.
The following extracts from letters, tending
to magnify the grace of Qod which made our
friend what he was, may not be out of place here*
One writes : — " I shall always feel it a pri-
vilege to have known him, and though he rarely
spoke to me directly as regarded my spiritual
114 ANNUAL MONITOR.
welfare, I felt his influence for good during tbe
seven years I lived in Walden ; I saw his good
works, and was led to glorify his Father in
Heaven who had endowed him with so much that
was good and beautiful."
Another writes : — " Our long intimacy witJi
thy dear father was greatly prized, for a more
lovable and beautiful character we never met ;
and I never came in contact with him but I felt
he had done me good ; and in him I was often
reminded of our Saviour's words,- ^Behold an
Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile.* "
J. J. Neave writes of him :— " One he was,
above all others in my mind, whose life has
seemed unspotted and upright, and whose ex-
ample was not marred by the ordinary weaknesses
of humanity ; and yet if he could speak to us,
he would be the first to acknowledge his failings,
and to give all the praise to God, by whose grace
he was what he was."
From a Niece : — " I did so like the texts on
the card," * Pure in heart' so exactly describes what
our loved one was. Few if any have left behind
them such sweet memories in all hearts. To me
he has been the embodiment of love and kind-
ness and unselfishness, and I cannot recall ever
having heard him utter an impatient word, or
SARAH ROWNTREE. 115
speak unkindly of anyone. I do thank God for
having given us such an uncle, and long that we
may grow more and more like him as he was like
Christ. The recollection of his dear, sweet, holy
£ace, as I saw him last spring, will, I think,
never be obliterated."
One of his nurses writes of him : — " I feel
to-night I have lost a friend, one from whom I
benefited much when I had the privilege of
nursing him ; a privilege for which I have praised
God with thankful heart. The perfect trust, bo
sweet, I shall never forget : but the loss of this
dear one is his eternal gain. The life is now be-
gun — no sin, no sorrow, no suffering ; but safe in
his Father's Home, the Home prepared by our
Saviour's love."
Sarah Kowntree, 81 2 1 mo. 1888
York, A Minister. Widow of Joseph Rowntree.
The Annual Monitor for 1860 contained a
biographical notice of Joseph Rowntree, whose
death had occurred in the autumn of 1859. After
an interval of twenty-eight years, we have to
record the decease of his widow, Sarah Rowntree.
She was the youngest child of Isaac and Hannah
Stephenson, having been bom in 1807, at Stock-
ton-upon-Tees, whence her parents removed to
Manchester, with their family, whilst she was
116 ANNUAL MONITOR.
still a girl. Saiah Stephenson was suirounded
from childhood with the holy influences of a
Christian home. Her father was a minister
devoted to the service of his Master. The Scrip**
tores were read aloud in his family with a fre-
quency then uncommon, and the whole tone and
character of his household were determined by
the supreme place assigned to the things pertain-
ing to salvation through Jesus Christ. Isaac
Stephenson was often from home on religious
service. He visited in gospel love the Friends
in the United States, and whilst on a similar
errand in the north of Ireland death overtook hink
very suddenly in 1828. His religious engage-
ments and those of his sister Elizabeth Bobson,
kept the interest of the young people much
directed towards this kind of Christian service.
In a memorandum made in 1883 Sarah
Rowntree refers to her childhood, and to the early
work of divine grace in her heart, in the following
terms : —
" Whilst at home alone this evening I have
been taking a review of my past life from early
childhood, and have been afresh humbled in the
sense of the Lord's goodness to me, — ^how I was
blessed with the training of loving Chnstian
parents, ever on the watch by word and example
BARAH BOWNTRBE. 117
to dr^w and guide to that which, is pure and holy
and how the Holy Spirit did influence my heart
when very young, leading to prayer, and giving
the feeling of happiness when so made sensible
of my Saviour's nearness to me. As says,
* I have no recollection of a period of my first
awakening," yet has the Lord, I believe, gently
led me along, making me to know my own weak-
ness and sinfulness and the need of a Saviour, and
deepening my love to Him. My feeling now is
that I have indeed been an unprofitable servant,
and I can only cling to that mercy which first
drew me to Christ my Saviour."
That close walk with God, thus early begun
and continued from year to year throughout the
whole course of our dear friend's life, was the
source of her spiritual strength. In it she found
the right quaHfication for the discharge of earthly
•duties, and was again and again anointed for
public and private ministries in the household of
£aith.
In connection with this feature of her life
and character, it may be conveuient to anticipate
the chronological order of the narrative, and here
to group together extracts from Sarah Bowntree's
memoranda indicating her spiritual aspirations in
oodddle and advanced life. It will be seen how
118 ANNUAL MONITOR.
strikingly her experience realised the desire of the
poet: —
" I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety."
" First month 23rd, 1 854.— My birthday, forty-
seven years of age. My soul is humbled within
me in the consideration of the Lord's unfailing
mercy to me all my life-way, having brought me
thus far on my earthly pilgrimage, and supplied
me with all things needful for the body, and
given many spiritual blessings, so that I may say.
He has crowned me with loving-kindness and-
tender mercy ; what return have I made for all
these, so great blessings? I feel that I have-
cause for deep humiliation and contrition, and
to seek for pardon through Jesus Christ ; for
though my course may seem to my fellow-
creatures to have been a pretty orderly and con-
sistent one, yet the Lord only knows how often
I have grieved His Holy Spirit, how cold and
dead my heart has often been, and how indisposed
to maintain steadily the spiritual life, and how
unwilling to lay hold of offered strength to con-
fess Christ before men. Oh, that this day my
covenant may be renewed with the Lord, and by
His holy help may I be strengthened to keep it>
SABAH BOWNTREE. 119
unworthy as I am of His renewed mercj ; but I
am poor and helpless of myself ! "
" Twelfth month llth, 1875.— I long for a life
wholly consecrated to the service of my God, and
for such a very close walking with Him, drinking
in of the Spirit, and being guided by His eye,
that when the end comes, it may be as a going
home ; coming to the end of a path which, though
sometimes thorny, has been marked by rich and
numberless blessings. To the Lord be all praise
for His goodness to me down to the present hour,
poor and unworthy as I am."
" Tmlfth month ZOth, 1878.— Another year has
nearly reached its close ; in looking back over it,
there have been many marked incidents in our
experience, very varied in character, ... in all
how good the Lord has been, fulfilling so much
beyond my deserts, the promise given me on my
marriage day, ' as thy days so shall thy strength
be.' And now if permitted to enter on another
year, with all the unknown future of joy or
sorrow, service or suffering, I desire to commit
myself wholly into the Lord's keeping, asking
that day by day, yea, hour by hour, I may be
kept close to Him, led along, strengthened, guided
by Him, for whatever duty may fall to my lot.
Gracious Father, Thou hast been very good to me
120 ANNUAL MONITOR.
and mine ; continue to us Thy tender watchful
care, I do pray, and do grant that all the experi-
ence of life, may in Thy great mercy, bring into
a closer walk with Thee, and larger realisation
of Thy wondrous love and power."
In 1832 Sarah Stephenson became the wife of
Joseph Rowntree. For the thirteen years suc-
ceeding her marriage, during which her five chil-
dren were born, she was the mistress of a large
business household. These were years crowded
with active engagements. Besides her own
maternal and domestic duties, she shared her
husband's business anxieties, and upheld his
hands in the performance of every private and
public duty. She exerted a strong though gentle
influence for good over her husband's, business
assistants and her own domestic servants. She
was a regular attender, so far as health permitted,
of meetings for divine worship and for church
affairs. She found time for visiting the poor
and relieving their wants, as well as for serving
on the managing committees of schools, and the
York Penitentiary.
In middle life Sarah Rowntree began to
speak as a minister. Her addresses were usually
short, and were marked by much feeling and
exercise of spirit on behalf of those to whom she
SARAH ROWNTRfiE. ISl
spoke. She engaged in vocal prayer perhaps as
frequently as in preaching, and was often favoured
to have near access to the throne of grace. In
1854-5, under appointment of York Quarterly
Meeting, Sarah Kowntree took part in a religious
visit to the Friends in the West Riding, being
associated with Thomas Pumphrey, Edward Smith,
Isabel Casson and others. Her gift in the minis-
try enlarged in connection with the religious
labours into which this mission introduced her,
and it was shortly afterwards recognised by her
friends. In relation to this event she remarks: —
"Eleventh month 2Sth, 1856.— At our last
Monthly Meeting, Friends gave their sanction in
the accustomed way to my speaking as a minister.
Very serious and humiliating have been my
feelings, and earnest my petitions that the Lord
will in great mercy watch over and keep me from
dishonouring His precious cause in word or deed;
and when in the feeling of utter helplessness I
have sought to cast myself entirely on His
guidance and protection, I think I have felt my
spirit quieted, and my faith a little renewed by
the revival of some most satisfying promises. I
now feel very poor and low, and when sitting in
our meeting it has seemed as if I should never
open my mouth there again : but whether I do
M
122 AITNUAL MONITOR.
or not, may I be kept in deep humility waiting
upon the Lord, and then all must be right."
About the same time as the date of the last
memorandum, Sarah Rowntree became much
interested for the spiritual welfare of some of the
young women attending York Meeting, and under
a feeling of Christian love and duty, she invited
them to a Bible class held at her house. These
occasions were felt to be much blessed to some
of those who attended. It is observable from
S. R.'s memoranda, with what prayerful exercise
of spirit she entered on this engagement.
*^ Twelfth month %th, 1856.— A few weeks
ago, whilst sitting in meeting, my feelings were
very much interested on behalf of a considerable
number of young persons who attend our meet-
ings, some of them members of our Society and
some of them not members. I felt that personally
I knew little of them, and, though they were
connected with no other religious society, I feared
that we as a body were not doing what we might
for their help, and it then presented to me
whether I could sometimes invite a few of them
to our house in an evening, and either by a little
Scripture reading and research together, or by
serious reading of any other kind, could engage
their attention and interest, and be of some little
SARAH ROWKTREE. 12S
service to them in drawing them on to serious
things. Since then the subject has not failed
very often to have my serious attention, but
many discouragements have presented. I have
feared that I could not make such occasions useful
or interesting, because I know that naturally I
have very little power in that direction. Again
and again I have endeavoured to pray that I may
be rightly directed in it, and as I have not felt
that I could put the thing aside, after repeatedly
conversing with my dear husband about it, we
thought it best to make the attempt in a very
simple way. ... In my own unaided strength
I feel that this effort must be unproductive of
any good ; but whilst I make diligent use of the
many appliances by which I am surrounded (and
which are not[given for mere selfish gratification),,
may I in deep humility and earnest prayer be
seeking for and depending upon the help which
comes from God only."
** Second month 2Zrd, 1857. — In looking at
the last memorandum, I feel bound to acknow-
ledge the satisfaction that has attended the
attempt there contemplated I think
I may say that the imdertaking has not been
more difiicult than I anticipated. Each time
we have met I have deeply felt my own weak*
124 ANNUAL MONITOR.
ness and want of ability to make the occasion
really useful, and I think I have had the most
satisfaction when, in addition to the proper pre-
paration of subjects, I have sought the most
earnestly for Divine assistance, and cast myself
the most entirely upon the Lord in simple
faith, depending upon His help. I do believe
that, upon some of these occasions more espe-
cially, a precious sense of Divine overshadowing
has been known, and ability to speak a word that
I trust might be in season; for which unmerited
mercy and condescension I desire to record my
humble gratitude.''
On the twenty-seventh anniversary of her
marriage Sarah Bowntree recorded her sense of
the abounding cause she saw for gratitude in the
blessing it had been to her 'Ho have such a
partner through so large A portion of life,
strengthening me in whatever is good, and
contributing to my happiness every way. For
such a union may I cherish the deepest gratitude
to my Heavenly Father. May I strive more
earnestly to discharge aright the duties of wife
and mother, wrestle more in prayer for the
Lord's help to perform these and other duties.*'
Six months after this entry, her husband's
death dissolved the tender bond here referred to.
SARAH ROWKTREE. 125
At the marriage of Joseph and Sarah Bowntree,
Joseph John Gumey had preached from tli&
passage in the Epistle to the Ephesians, wher&
the Apostle makes the earthly relationship of
hushand and wife a type of the relationship
between Christ and the Church. This lofty ideal
of Christian marriage was illustrated with singular
beauty in the married life of our friends. Their
views of the object and aim of life were identical
They were united in entire agreement of religious
, faith and practice. All interests, joys, sorrows
and duties, were shared by both. With differing
mental constitutions, each contributed help to the-
other and received it in return. Sarah Kowntre©
would post her husband's ledgers, or consider with
him the details of business management, as
naturally as in later years she would share his
considerations of large municipal affairs, or bring
her judgment to bear along with his on the diver-
sified concerns of the Society of Friends, or the
multitudinous details of the administration of its
institutions.
The same wide range of sympathy distin-
guished her relationship as a mother. When her
children were very young, she took lessons from
a drawing master, to help her better to amuse and
interest them. As they grew to manhood and
i
126 ANNUAL MONITOR.
womanhood their widening interests were made
iter own. When sorrows fell upon them, or her
•children-in-law, they were her sorrows, and her
sympathy found expression in words and ways so
wise and tender, that it was often felt the prophet
had employed the most powerful of earthly
similes ^rhen he promised to Jerusalem in the
name of the Almighty: — "As one whom his
mother comforteth, so will I comfort you."
At the time of her husband's death, Sarah
Rowntree felt the bereavement to be so over-
whelming that she says she feared she might
lose her reason. It was, however, teaching to
observe how her faith in the love and compassion
•of her Saviour sustained her. A few weeks after
this event her memorandum book contains this
•entry : —
" First month 27th, I860.— For several days
past I have wished to record here the grateful
•«ense which I have had of the goodness of the
Lord to me, in sustaining me under my great and
sore affliction, sometimes by giving me to feel His
love and mercy to be very near; sometimes by the
waves of sorrow seeming to be held back, so that
they could not sweep over me ; and sometimes by
my heart seeming so filled and satisfied with the
«ense of the unutterable blessedness upon which
BABAH R0W17TREE. 127
my beloved one has entered. How wonderful
and how unmerited is the goodness of Qod to His
poor creatures. May I be helped more implicitly
to trust in Him, more entirely to love Him, and
more faithfully to serve Him. I had thought of
the 23rd of this month, my birthday, as one that
would be very sorrowful to me, bringing so vividly
to my mind my altered circumstances, and I
wished that I might not remember it when the
day came. The preceding evening I felt able
after the Scripture reading, vocally to ask for a
continuance of the Lord's mercy to us ; and going
to bed with the love of Qod in my heart, I woke
in the morning with one of the Psalmist's sweet
petitions on my lips, and a sweet feeling of peace
and comfort. I did not remember for a consider-
able time that it was my birthday, and when I
did, it was not accompanied by any distress, but,
I think, with more ability for enjoying the things
around me than I have had since my great loss.
What shall I render to the Lord for all His
benefits 7"
For a time, Sarah Rowntree's health gave
way under the shock she had sustained. But
gradually it was much restored and she entered
on the last division of her life, little supposing
it would be prolonged for twenty-eight years,
128 ANNUAL MONITOR.
with strong desires to occupy all the talent»
committed to her, according to her Lord's will.
The entries in her private memorandum book
became more frequent, and show that whilst her
friends may have supposed she was living a
quiet and uneventful life, it was in reality
chequered by many sorrows and perplexities.
All these were committed in confiding prayer
to her God and Saviour. It is observable how
very frequent are her records of prayer on be«
half of her children, grandchildren, and near
friends and relatives. To the extent of her
strength, she attended such meetings of Friends
as she was able, and was wont to maintain a
very lively exercise of spirit, that gatherings,
such as Women's Preparative, Monthly, or
Quarterly Meetings, or conferences of Ministers
and Elders, should be held " in the life," and
"to the honour of Truth." She often took a
vocal part in these meetings, sometimes in prayer^
sometimes in exhortation, generally seeking to
stir up her friends to greater consecration of life-
to Christ. In letters received at the time of her
decease, the writers observe : —
"I cannot easily forget the interest with
which I always looked forward to the possibility
of hearing S. R's voice in our own Quarterly
SARAH BOWNTBEE. 129
Meetings, and the peaceful chastened tone that
ever seemed to accompany her words."
" The friends in her own meeting must feel
that she has left the memory of a beautiful
example, in the words she often spoke to them,
as well as in the brightness of the long life passed
amo&g them/'
As long as her health permitted, it was a
great pleasure to Sarah Bowntree to entertain
large companies at her house, on the occurrence
of Quarterly Meetings. At these times it was
instructive to observe how anxious she was that
her friends should not only share her hospitality
as to outward things, but that those spiritual
inteBests which are the professed objects of
meetings for discipline should not be forgotten
in the serving of tables.
Under date 1878, First month 27th, Sarah
Rowntree writes : — " In the near approach of
another Quarterly Meeting, I have longed that
the Lord may own and bless us in the large meet-
ings and in the social gatherings. Be pleased, O
my Father in Heaven, to help me to watch and
pray that I may not be so absorbed by domestic
arrangements as to obstruct any little service
Thou may have for me, or from receiving any in-
struction I might receive."
130 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Again in 1886 : — " After a Quarterly Meet-
ing is over, with all the labour of one kind oc
other that is involved, I am sometimes ready to
ask myself, what, as regards my own house, does
it all amount to ? Have the higher interests of
our guests, the religious and the intellectual, had
their place, as well as attention to the ordinary
hospitalities of life ? In the social circle has Gk>d
been glorified, and all avoided that would dis-
honour Him ? In the retrospect there may be
much to humble, but still I do esteem these times
of social and religious intercourse very highly, —
in different ways they may be very helpful to us
if improved as they ought."
As years passed and her children were settled
in homes of their own, a time came when Sarah
Kowntree had none of her own family to reside
with her. She was wont to say, that when a
young woman she had dreaded the loneliness of
old age, but now that it had really come, there
was no sense of desolation in her allotment, and,
until failing health made it necessary, she ob-
jected to have a companion to reside with her.
The company of her grand-children was greatly
enjoyed by her. Separated from them by so wide
a difference of age, she retained that freshness of
spirit which enahled her readily to remember and
SARAH BOWNTRBE. 131
heartily to enter into the individual concerns of
each. She was refreshed by the fun of childhood,
and in many ways rejoiced to increase the hap-
piness of her children's children. The secret of
this cheerfulness in old age is seen in a memoran-
dum like the following : —
" First month 22nd, 1876.— My heart has
seemed full this evening of the love of Christ my
Saviour ; it does seem wonderful that one so
utterly poor and unworthy should have such a
sweet sense of nearness and access in prayer : —
some may think my evenings alone are lonely,
but oh ! far from it, when the Saviour condescends
to draw near. What more can I ask or desire ?
Oh to be deeply humbled under the feeling of
undeserved mercy."
In the latter years of her life, Sarah Rown-
tree was often confined to her house for many
•weeks and months. When well enough to receive
the visits of her friends, she greatly enjoyed their
society, and many were those who sought her
company for sympathy in trouble, counsel as to
earthly business or religious service, or for Chris-
tian fellowship. So numerous were callers, that
it was sometimes difficult to find opportunities
for all who wished to see her. It was striking
liow ahnost to the last she was wont to say, ** I
132 ANNUAL MONITOR.
thought it very kind of to call upon me.""
The combination in her character of the truest
sympathy-— often Ending outward expression in
flowing tears — with strength of judgment and
spiritual faculties " exercised by reason of use/^
made her so helpful to her friends. One of these
writes : —
" She was such a true mother — ^in all loring-
ness and true sympathy, and possessed of the
faculty of being able to place herself in the situa-
tion of another so completely, and to enter into
the joys and sorrows of life as if they were her
own."
Another : —
**I think no one could visit her without
going away better, and feeling the contrast between
the atmosphere in which she lived and that of the
world."
We add a few sentences from another letter
received after her death : —
"At times when all ordinary evidence seemed
to fail, and one struggled hard for some proof
positive that the spiritual life could really con-
quer the life of the world within and around, the-
thought of her has come like an anchorage from
which there was no giving way. Her wonderful
judgment, which seemed to give back to you
SARAH ROWNTRISB. 133
more on almost every subject than one could say
to her even after a course of study, her clear
discernment, and the evenness of her tender
sympathy and love, must, under any circum-
stances, have won the admiration of all who
knew her ; but above all she bore so uncon-
sciously an ever-living witness to the higher life
of the soul, whilst making all the time the quiet
every-day life so warm and pleasant to all around
her."
After a day of many callers, in the spring of
1879. Sarah Eowntree wrote : —
" This day there have been many callers, and
near its close I have been pondering upon the
effect of such association. It is very pleasant
and interesting so to meet with those you love
and for whom you feel a warm interest ; it seema
to draw closer the bond of Christian fellowships
and keep the affections warm : but I also feel
that there should be the endeavour to watch
for oppo'rtunities to make such visits helpful
to the highest interests of each. We seem to
want more simplicity in speaking on religious
subjects, by which our love to the Saviour might
often be quickened. Lord, wilt Thou help me to
live so near to Thee that I may be quick to per-
ceive when I could say a word for Thee ? "
N
134 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Sarah. Bowntree made the last entry in her
memorandum book Ninth month 8th, 1887,
remarking, "Weakness and debility continue,
though I get about the house. General decline
of power is very evident, and very solemn thoughts
3xe connected with it. Oh, I want to be con-
stantly as in the presence of my Saviour, and
through His mercy fitted for the last great
change."
About six weeks after this entry our dear
friend became more decidedly unwell. She
however retained the brightness of her mental
and spiritual faculties almost to the time of her
death. She was in her sitting-room on the last
day of 1887, and in the evening took a most
affectionate farewell of her sons. In the course
of the day she had been speaking very gratefully
of the abounding kindness of her attendants, as
well as of the love of absent friends and relatives
who had sent flowers, cards, and other tokens of
Section. Above all she testified to the sense
of the love of Christ filling her heart, and staying
lier spirit amidst increasing bodily weakness.
The next day — the new year's Sabbath morning
— she was too ill to rise, and gradually sank into
unconsciousness, from which there was no earthly
Awaking. ''In green pastures," "beside the
CHARLES A. SCOTT. 135
still waters," were almost her last words before
she entered the valley of the shadow of death,
fearing no evil^ for the Saviour she had so long
loved was with her.
William Rowntrbb, 44 24 5 mo. 1888
Sheffield.
Arthur Rtlby, 60 26 1 mo. 1888
Liverpool,
Edith Sadler, 4 26 10 mo. 1887
Crosby, Maryport, Daughter of John and
Hannah Sadler.
Lucy Salter, 55 22 10 mo. 1887
Scarhorovgh, Widow of William Henry Salter,
late of Westleton, SuflFolk.
Catherine Sargent, 75 20 9 mo. 1888
Fritchley, Widow of John Sargent,
Sarah Satterthwaite, 97 18 11 mo. 1887
Manchester, Widow of William Satterthwaite.
John Scarr, Limerick 67 18 11 mo. 1887
Charles A. Scott, 47 13 7 mo. 1887
Edghaston, Birmingham. (This name appeared
in the volume for last year.)
Charles Appleby Scott was the yoimgest son
of John and Elizabeth Scott, of Birmingham. As
a child he was of an impulsive temperament,
but warm-hearted and loving, with much in his
nature to strive against and overcome. He was
J.
136 ANNUAL HONHOB.
much, influenced in his youth by one of the
Biimingham Grammar School masters, and his
religious impressions first showed themselves
about this time. As he grew up, he took a warm
interest in First-day school work and mission
meetings connected with the Severn Street
Schools, and was especially devoted to the Cross
Street Mission, where he worked assiduously with
the late Edwin Laundy, whose wise counsel was
often helpful to him, both in business and in
religious concerns.
He was married in 1873 to Jane, youngest
daughter of George and Jane Harrison, of Book-
ing, Essex. Later in the same year he became
alarmingly ill, and the effects of this remained with
him ever after; but it was during this illness that
his soul was brought nearer to his Saviour, and
his many trials and outward afflictions seemed
but to strengthen his faith.
It was very beautiful to watch his growth in
grace, and the deepening of his religious feelings.
Possessed of a warm and loving nature, he was
ever on the watch to do a kind action for those
about him, and it was seldom that he let an oppor-
tunity slip without speaking for the Master to
those who came under his influence.
His unflagging interest in the various meet-
CHABLES A. SCOTT. 137
ings, both within and outaide of the Society of
Friends, was kept up pretty much to the time o^
his removal; often in spite of much weakness an d
weariness ; but on his return from a meeting he
would often say, " What a blessed meeting we
have had," and that he felt very much refreshed
in spirit.
He was in the constant habit of retiring to
his room for the purpose of prayer three times a
day, and in this lay the secret of his happiness
and deepening love to God.
As a business-man he was remarkable for his
integrity and uprightness of character, often incur-
ring loss himself rather than do that which
seemed to him to be inconsistent with his Chris-
tian profession. He was not ashamed of his Lord
and Master, and would often openly rebuke
worldliness or selfishness in his business friends.
His last illness, which was long and tedious,
was borne with great patience, and through it all
it was his endeavour to advance the kingdom of
God. During the last few weeks he was full of
peace and joy and deep thankfulness, and only
seemed waiting in happy expectation for his
entrance into his heavenly home. When asked
if he had any message for the members of the
Cross Street Meeting, he said, "Tell them I
138 ANNUAL MONITOR.
have been washed in the blood of Christ, though
unworthy, unworthy"
He peacefully passed away on the 13th of
Seventh month, 1887, aged 47 years.
Eliza Sessions, 75 15 8 mo. 1888
Gloucester, A Minister. Wife of Jesse Sessions.
Eliza Sessions {nSe Shipley), was bom at
Shaftesbury, Eighth month 18th, 1813. Of her
childhood there are no records extant. All her
contemporaries who could have given any informa-
tion are dead. There is every reason to believe,
however, that God early touched her heart, for
she grew up to young womanhood with His fear
before Her eyes and His love in her soul. Her
husband, to whom she was married when she was
but twenty-two, never remembers her otherwise
than as a consistent servant of Christ.
As the years of wedded life passed by she
had many trials to contend with in regard to out-
ward circumstances. The cares of a large family
of children, who had to be brought up on com-
paratively slender means, also pressed heavily
upon her. To her husband, in those days of
anxiety, her unwavering faith was a continual
comfort and support Her older children well
remember the solemnity that overshadowed the
room, when they were sometimes admitted into
ELIZA SESSIONS. 139
their parents' bed-chamber during their private
morning devotions. They learned there whence
came her power both to work and to endare.
It was donbtless due to this habit of communioa
with Qod, thus daily cultivated, that she found
strength and willingness to stand loyally by all
consequences, when, in the earliest days of the
Temperance reformation, J. SoBsions became a
total abstainer, and relinquished a brewer's agency
which had considerably increased the sorely-
needed income.
With a mind so sincerely set upon following
the guidance of the Holy Spirit, it is no matter
for surprise that she received in due time a call
from the Lord to preach the Gospel. Yielding
to the call, and following her Guide closely, she
experienced an enlargement and deepening of
her gift, and was recorded a Minister by Gloucester
and Nailsworth Monthly Meeting about the year
1852.
The doctrine ehe preached was always Scrip-
tural, and she never had unity with any but the
'' healthful teaching " of the old truths held by
the Society of Friends. Whatever her immediate
topic, it was sure to be based on the great facts of
the New Testament. To her Jesus was emphati-
cally the Word made flesh and dwelling among
140 ANNUAL MONITOR.
men. She neither knew nor preached any other
atonement for sin than Christ dying on the cross
in the sinner's stead. She was clear and strong
in her knowledge that the Son of Qod had risen
again from the dead, and had shed forth the Holy
Ghost to convince the sinner of sin and of judg-
ment to come, and to dwell in the believer's
heart as a refiner, sanctifier, and overcoming
power.
But not only was she an acceptable and
successful preacher. , She was a true counsellor in
private to many an anxious soul. Her sympa-
thetic disposition and her practical common sense
made her very welcome in those " family visits,"
which were more frequent formerly than they now
are, and which she never omitted to pay when
travelling with a certificate for the holding of
meetings with Friends and with the public. She
had a gift of the discernment of spirits, and was
often greatly helped in speaking to the spiritual
condition of others, both within and without her
own family circle. Not unfrequently persons
would come to her after the close of a meetings
to confess their troubles and secret faults, which
they supposed she must have known, so clearly
had she opened their state before their own in*
ward eyes. Especially was she blessed during
ELIZA SESSIONS. 141
her maturity in her wise encouragement of those
who were young in the ministry.
She lived to see three of her children, and the
widow of one of her sons, recorded as ministers.
Sometimes, when holiday seasons brought them
together in the old home, there have been the
father (an Elder), and the mother, daughter and
two sons, sitting side by side in the ministers^
gallery of Gloucester Meeting-house. To the
elder of these sons she wrote the following letter,
which we insert in the hope that it may prove
useful to some who are now, as he was then, in
the expectation of being more widely engaged in
his Master's service, yet trembling about taking
the next forward step : —
" My precious Child, — I can never tell thee
how much is in my heart of thankful rejoicing
that a second time thou hast obeyed the voice of
thy Lord, and spoken forth words of praise and
love. Thy example, I cannot but believe, will
have more effect upon the meeting than many
words and warnings from us older ones. May'st
thou ever cherish a simple, child-like spirit, a
willingness to speak when it feels right, without
that turning and tossing of the subject up and
down in thy own mind, looking at it this way
and that, and questioning whether it is the right
142 AKNUAL MONITOR.
thing, until the proper time passes, and the offering
itself loses yery much of its brightness and purity.
The fear of myself and of man has often caused
me to do this, until the life (if there was any)
has very much departed, and when I have risen
it has been under much difficulty through my
own want of simplicity. May my dear son never
split upon this rock. That thou wilt have many
discouragements and much humiliation I cannot
doubt, but I believe this is for our safety^ to
keep us humble when Grod gives us a gift. . . .
Another thing will perhaps be thy experience — it
was largely mine — for years I think I spoke, and
(except once or twice a Friend in the ministry
might have encouraged me) out of my own family
no one ever gave me a kind word, or said ought,
either *Be silent,' or 'Speak.' Yet I believe
now I had the unity and sympathy of my friends;
but there is seldom much readiness to extend the
right hand of fellowship. But these things need
not trouble us ; the enemies of one's own soul^
which are both lively and strong, cause me to
fear day by day ; and on looking inward I am
often led to query whether it is possible for one
so faulty and inconsistent to ever rightly labour
for the Holy One.
"Thy loving Mother.'*
ELIZA SESSIONS. 143
£j-and-by the Lord wanted her to travel
through some parts of England, visiting Friends'
meetings and families, and holding meetings with
the general public. She was " not 4isobedient to
the heavenly vision/* and her friends had unity
with her feeling of duty. Her first visit in the
love of the Gtospel was to the Quarterly Meeting
of Warwick, Stafford and Leicester, in the year
1858, accompanied by her husband. In the chief
towns the meetings were all largely attended.
One of the most interesting was held in a circus
at Birmingham. About 2,000 persons were pre-
sent of the lowest and most degraded portion of
the population. Sweeps, with their black faces^
were there ; soldiers, shoe-blacks, and a motley
variety besides. Notwithstanding the rough ele-
ments of which it was composed, the meeting was
orderly and solemn.
The companies of Friends in the country
districts were found to be very small, and Eliza
Sessions often felt much discouraged for their
future. There seemed to be so little spiritual life
or ingathering power among them, that only a
prospect of extinction could lie before them. In
one small meeting, afterwards closed. Friends made
no proper arrangements to receive her, nor gave
public invitation to any to meet her. In othej
144 ANNUAL MONITOR.
places she had to turn away from our own build-
ings, aad avail herself of the proffered chapels
and religious organisation of Wesleyan and other
bodies of Christians in order to reach the masses,
towards whom her heart was drawn forth. In
some of the smaller meetings, however, there
seemed to be a seed left among Friends which
might have borne abundant fruit had her earnest
counsels and exhortations been followed.
The following year she visited Dublin Yearly
Meeting, attending the regular sittings, speaking
in the meetings to which the public were spe-
cially invited, and holding more private ones at
the residences of Friends, notably a large and
profitable one at the late Samuel Bewley's. One
little incident was related of her years afterwards
by an English Friend who was also present, and
which struck him as giving clear evidence of
the divine source of her ministry, and of the sin-
gleness with which she obeyed the intimations of
the Holy Spirit. During one of the meetings,
while delivering an earnest address, all the matter
of her discourse suddenly went away from her
mind. " Under these circumstance," said our
informant, " probably most preachers would have
attempted to fill up the blank with words and
ideas forced together for the occasion ; but Eliza
ICIJZA SESSIONS. 145
Sessions quietly sat down, and waited for the
restoration of the lost message,^ which occurred
afterwards^ after a short and silent pleading with
the Lord.'* We haye been told that some were
present \p ho either doubted or depreciated the direct
guidance of the Spirit in such matters, and who
were a good deal struck by the circumstance.
She always considered it was permited for their
benefit, though it was an extreme trial to herself.
In 1860, she received a certificate for travel-
ling in Yorkshire, where also she diligently
visited the families of Friends, as well as larger
and smaller meetings.
Eliza Sessions' life was about this time
sharply divided into two portions by a long and
trying illness, lasting for about two years. She
endured deep and fiery baptisms of soul, but
came forth a brighter Christian than ever, with
broader charity, more tender sympathy, less
of sectarian narrowness, and more assurance of
knowledge, faith and hope.
Shortly after her recovery her Monthly
Meeting again granted her a certificate for public
service. Her mission this time was to other de-
nominations of Christians than Friends through-
out the county of Gloucester. In the visits then
paid by her the power and unction of her min-
o
146 ANNUAL MONITOR.
istiy were sucli that many are still liying in the
Forest of Dean, and on the Cotswold Hills, who
speak of the blessing she brought them. The
rough colliers and miners of the Forest, and the
shepherds and ploughmen of the hUls, alike
crowded to the chapels when she was known to
be coming. In some of the buildings the com-
pany was so large (many listening through the
opened doors and windows), and the heat so great,
that the walls and floors were covered with mois-
ture " as though they had been mopped;'' on one
memorable occasion the meeting lasted fully two
hours, and even then the throng of eager worship-
pers was loth to depart, the power of the Lord
was so manifestly present with them to heal and
stimulate.
Excepting one visit to the Eastern Counties,
Eliza Sessions did not again travel from home as
a preacher. As age and infirmities increased, the
leadings of the Holy Ghost took her in a new
direction ; and it was then laid upon her heart to
commence the rescue work among the " Friend-
less and Fallen," with which her name has been
80 closely associated for some twenty years. The
annual reports of the Institution which she
founded and conducted so successfully are too
familiar to our readers to need even summarising
ELIZA. SESSIONS. 147
in thiB place. It is enough to say that scores of
young women are to-day living virtuous and
Christian lives, who must have been among the
lost^ but for the providence of God leading them
to become inmates of the Gloucester Home of
Hope.
The end of Eliza Sessions' useful life was
sudden. Though she had been failing for some
time, no immediate danger was apprehended.
She was at Teignmouth with her husband and
daughter when the summons came. She was out
walking, though with some difficulty, oH the
Monday ; on Tuesday was taken seriously ill,
and on the Wednesday departed to be with
Christ. An upward glance and look in her eye,
as though seeing heavenly things that were not
revealed to others, was the only sign vouchsafed
that she knew the time of her departure was at
hand. No loving words uttered to bystanders
cheer the bereaved with their fragrant memories.
Better, however, than the fragrance of death-bed
sayings is the incense of a holy life. The fruits
of the Spirit, brought forth among the common
places of every-day; loving deeds prompted by
Christlike sympathy for the wayward and out-
cast ; wise and winning appeals to sinful souls to
come unto Him who loved them and gave Him-
148 ANNUAL MONITOR.
self for them ; these are the testimonies that con-
Tince the world of the reality of religion, and the
blessedness of walking with God.
The funeral at the Gloucester Friends' Burial
Ground at Grey Friars was very largely attended
by townspeople, notably by those of the labouring
classes, among whom she had laboured at the
Park Street Mission and elsewhere. For a week
afterwards the grave was heaped with the
wreaths of the well-to-do, and the cottage-
garden posies of the poor, who had but this way
of showing their sorrowful love for her whose
presence they will long miss from among
them.
Charlotte Elizabeth Shackleton,
46 10 12 mo. 1887
Lucan, DMin. Wife of Bichard Shackleton,
BoBBRT W. Shaw, 32 19 4 mo. 1888
Harrogate,
Arthur Shemeld, 41 18 9 mo. 1888
Northampton.
Abraham Shield, 79 5 8 mo. 1888
Btimlaw, AUendale.
Major Shout, 72 23 8 mo. 1888
Darlington.
Susanna Sikes, Cork 82 27 8 mo. 1888
Widow of Bobert Cherry Sikes.
ANN SNOWDEN. 149'
William Fishkr Sim, 65 22 11 mo. 1887
Southport.
JosiANA Smee, 52 14 7 mo. 1888
Enfield, Widow of Sylvanus Smee.
Ellen Smith, 52 27 12 mo. 1887
Clifton, Bristol,
Granville Smith, 41 17 3 mo. 1888
Copperfield, Peak Downs, Queensland, formerly
of Booking, Essex.
George Smithson, 66 6 8 mo. 1888
Edghaston, Birmingham,
Ann Snowden, 91 5 2 mo. 1888
Edghaston, Birmingham. An Elder. Widow
of John Snowden, of Bradford.
Ann Snowden was the daughter of Samuel
and Ann Bentley, of Sheffield, and was born
on the 29th of Seventh month, 1796. Deprived
by death of her mother when about two years
old, and having no brothers and sisters living, she
became the especial care of her father, of whom
she always retained the most affectionate re-
membrance. When about nine years old she
was sent to York School, and among other letters
from her father, carefully preserved, is one
addressed to her whilst there, in which, after
telling her he hopes soon to meet her in Leeds
at the Quarterly Meeting, he concludes : *' I
150 ANNUAL MONITOR.
request thee to be obedient 'to thy governesses
loring to thy schoolfellows, and in every way to
behave thyself as becomes a good girl ; this will
make thee esteemed by all who know thee, and
be a lasting pleasure to thyself ; 'twill be the
greatest pleasure I can feel." It was not, how-
ever, for long that she was to have the watchful
care of this beloved parent; for when she had
been at school about a year he was very suddenly
taken away. ) When engaged in conversation with.
a friend, and smiling at a remark mfide by him,
he expired in a moment. This sudden bereave-
ment was a great trial to her, and she keenly
felt being left so lonely ; yet there is no doubt
but that it tended to deepen her religious feel-
ings, and led her to trust more in her Heavenly
Father's guidance. In after-life she was often
led to commemorate His goodness in having so
watched over and provided for her.
A few months after her fathei's death she
returned to the school at York, which for seven
years became her home. She was kind and
affectionate towards her schoolfellows, especially
towards new-comers, and was much beloved by*
William and Ann Alexander who then had
charge of the school.
Whilst at York she formed many life-long
ANN 8N0WDEN. 161
friendships, some of them lasting over seyentj
years.
After leaving school her home was for some
years at Rawdon, where several of her relatives
resided, until, in 1823, she was married to John
Snowden df Bradford. She found here a sphere
of increased usefulness, though from delicate
health she was often much confined at home;
and, being naturally of a retiring and diffident
disposition, she shrank from public service ; yet
she took a warm interest in the work of others,
and in ministering privately to any who were in
need of counsel or of help. For many years she
acceptably filled the office tt Elder. She joined
heartily in the first movement in the Temperance
cause more than fifty years ago, and retained an
unabated interest in it through life.
In 1850 she was called to part with a beloved
daughter, and five years later she had also to
resign her husband. These trials were borne
with Christian meekness and submission to the
Divine will, and stimulated her to more active
sympathy with the suffering and afflicted. Eefer-
ring to the loss of her husband, she says, " And
now that he has left me behind for a little time
longer, I desire not to idolise the creature, but
that I may unreservedly give my heart to the
152 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Lord. May His grace still abound to us, so that
we may meet in heaven."
In 1862 the last link to her home was severed
by the death of her son, in typhoid fever ; and
it seemed best that she should remove to Birming-
ham, to be near her only remaining daughter.
Here she spent the remainder of her days in
peaceful quiet, enjoying intercourse with new-
found friends, and keeping up correspondence
with old ones. She was indeed lovely in character
and in person, and the peacefully sweet expres-
sion of her countenance bore witness to the peace
that reigned within. Her humility was very-
striking, and her tender and loving spirit often
brought comfort and cheer to her friends. She
was one of a band of excellent and gifted women,
others of the group being Eliza Hack, Esther See-
bohm and her sisters, and Margaret Marriott,
the brightness and beauty of whose lives and
characters will live long in the remembrance of
those who knew them.
Ann Snowden's life was lengthened out much
beyond her expectation, and though constantly
looking forward to the end, her enjoyment of the
present life was not lessened, nor her interest in
caring for others, and in what was going forward
in the world. Her intellect remained clear with
• ANN SNOWDEN. 163
advancing age, and, though she often mourned
lier want of faith and faithfulness, her abiding
feeling was one of thankfulness for abounding
mercies, and quiet trust in her Saviour's love.
Her last illness was short — a chill brought
on congestion of the lungs, which soon reduced
lier feeble powers, and she sank peacefully
away.
Ellen Southall, 68 2 11 mo. 1887
Birkenhead, Wife of Thomas Southall.
Hubert John Spencbr-Bell,
19 25 4 mo. 1888
Devonshire Place, Westminster. Son of the
late James and M. A. Spencer-Bell.
Alfred Stapleton, 31 4 11 mo. 1887
WaXham Green.
Oliver Steed, 60 19 5 mo. 1888
Baldock,
Oharles Sturge, 86 1 5 mo. 1888
Wribbenhally Bewdley,
Oeorge Sturge, 90 14 4 mo. 1888
Sydenham,
Mary Sutton, 89 9 5 mo. 1888
Stanvjix, Carlisle, Widow of Clement S.
Sutton.
Leonard Swan, — 22 12 mo. 1886
AUrincham,
154 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Amy Taylor, 7 30 4 mo. 188a
NoriJi Shields. Daughter of William and
Hannah Taylor.
Annette Jane Taylor, 25 27 3 mo. 1888.
MaUon, Wife of Frederic Taylor.
Annette Jane Taylor was the daughter of
Edward and Annette Fry, of Ipswich, where she
resided till her marriage.
Called at so early an age — in the bloom of
her youth, loving and beloved — to lay down her
mortal life, we cannot but think that it may he
instructive to those who may remain a little
longer, to bear testimony to the grace of our God
to this dear young sister, drawing her to Him-
self and making her a living witness for Him.
In youth she was led to her Saviour, and as
she grew up she manifested the calm and gentle
demeanour which becomes the disciple of Christy
and which so endeared her to those by whom
she wa£{ surrounded. She had a strong will, but
she learnt to yield it to her Lord, and to commit
her way unto Him ; so that, as the years passed,
she was found walking in His fear, and bringing,
forth the fruits of the Spirit in her intercourse
with others.
She became an earnest worker in the First-
day School at Ipswich, and in other ways was
ANNETTn JANE TATLOB. 155
concerned to do good to others and to speak to
them of her Saviour. It was in 1879, when about
seventeen years old^ that she entered the school as
a teacher, beginning with seven women in her
class. When she left it in 1887 it numbered 107
members. Her influence lives to-day in the
homes of many of these women ; she had a large
gift of sympathy ; and, young as she was, entered
into their trials and dij£culties in a remarkable
way. Nor was her influence confined to the
women's school : remarks made by her at the
evening mission meetings are not unfrequently
found to be remembered by one and another
of ihe scholars ; and when she married and left
the neighbourhood, she was not only missed by
her own class, but by the school at large.
In the Fourth month, 1887, she was married
to Frederic Taylor, of Malton. On the morning
of her mairiage, when ready for meeting, she asked
her mother to kneel with her ; and prayed, as near
as can be remembered, in these words : — " Dear
loving Heavenly Father, I ask Thee to take all
thoughts of self, dress, and the world away from
me to-day, and let us at meeting realise that
Jesus is present with us, and that we may serve
Jesus only, all our lives, whether they be long or
short."
156 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Befening to this prayer, a friend at MaltoiL
writes : — " To us comes now for the first time the.
knowledge of the utterance of such a prayer as
this ; but, as soon as A. J. T. came amongst us, we
had abundant proof that it had been no empty
petition, for it was evident to us all that she
sought to do her Father's will."
Her quiet, sympathetic interest in the work
found in her new sphere, quickly called out a
loTing response from the hearts of those with,
whom she associated. From letters received
after her death, it is touching to find how com-
pletely she had won the affection of those with
whom she had met but once or twice. Very
helpful was the part she took in the adult school
and in mission work ; her simple, loving words
are still treasured in many grateful hearts.
After eleven months of happy married life
the summons came. It came to one who had
been anxious to glorify God in her life here,,
whether that life were to be " long or short ; "
and it found her ready. On leaving the sitting-
room the last evening that she spent downstairs,,
she turned at the door, saying, "I must look
again around this room where so many happy
days have been spent ; I may never see it again.**
A few days before the end she said to her husband.
A17NETTE JANE TATLOB. 157
" I think I shall be spared to you a little longer ;
but God knows best/'
After a week of illness, accompanied by
much suffering, which was borne patiently and
without complaint, her friends were suddenly
made aware that her time on earth was nearly
ended. On her mother making this known to
her, her only anxiety seemed to be that her hus-
band might be sent for. Before many more
hours had passed away she had entered into rest,
without a fear or a murmur, having taken leave
of the watchers at the bedside, and exhorted them
not to weep for her. No terror of death was
there ; it was difficult to realise that her gentle
spirit had really fled as she " fell asleep in God."
Whittier's poems had long been of great help
to her ; her own mark is opposite some of the
woids quoted below, words which may well be
remembered in connection with a life like hers.
" Alone unto our Father's will,
One thought hath reconciled ;
That He whose love exceedeth ours,.
Hath taken home His child.
" Fold her, Father ! in Thine arms,.
And let her henceforth be
A messenger of love between
Our human hearts and Thee.
158 A'SNVhL MONITOB.
" Still let her mild rebuking stand
Between us ajid the wrong,
And her deaf memory serve to make
Our faith in goodness strong."
Henry Taylor, 59 15 1 mo. 1888
MaUon. A Minister.
Henry Taylor was born at Malton in 1829,
and was educated at Ackworth School. Whilst
there he was much helped by the teaching and
friendship of J. S. Sewell, then one of the younger
masters.
After leaving school at an age which would
now be thought very early, he spent some years
at business in Malton, Scarborough, and York;
and about 1853 commenced on his own account
at Malton, afterwards taking over the business
carried on by his father.
A narrow escape from drowning at Scar-
borough made a deep impression upon his mind,
and from the time of his settling finally in
Malton, he was frequently working in the Tem-
perance cause, speaking at village meetings, and
helping in other good work which came in his
way.
In 1855 or 1856 he joined with others in form-
ing the '* Malton and Norton Town Mission," an
association which has continued ever since, en-
HEKRY TATLOB. 159
listing the help of Christians of all denominations.
His earliest special work in connection with the
above consisted in visiting, in company with
another member, some local horse-training stables,
to hold meetings with the jockeys. The meeting-
place was a large underground saddle-room, and
on one occasion the two were locked in and pelted
with stones and dirt through a skylight. At
another time some bags, apparently of potatoes
piled, in one corner, began to roll about the floor
during the singing of a hymn . But these ex-
periences were in the early days.
About this time also H. T. began a mission
meeting on Thursday nights for the very poor,
and such as were ashamed to attend the regular
places of worship. Later, meetings were also held
on Sundays, and these still continue to be held.
In 1858 H. T. married Elizabeth Rown-
tree, who, with four sons and two daughters,
survives him. About this time he passed through
much conflict on some doctrinal matters, was
troubled at finding so little spiritual help amongst
Friends, and almost felt that he must leave the
Society. This, however, he was restrained from
doing ; and in 1861 he first spoke in Malton Meet-
ing, and from that time to the day preceding his
death, he supplied to others as he was com-
160 ANNUAL MONITOB.
mifisioned, and to the fall of his ability, that food
of which he had so deeply felt the need himself.
He was recorded a minister in Fifth month,
1870, much to his own surprise, and rather
against his wishes at the time ; but afterwards,
and especially when from home, he found the
fact helpful. He says, '* 1 feel myself unfit for
the office, yet n;Ly Master does graciously help
me, and 1 trust I may be preserved from hinder-
ing the blessed cause, and be made a blessing to
others."
H. T. sat for several years on the Local
Board of Health, and was connected with other
public bodies. To the last he was a moving
spirit in the Temperance Societies, and in the
Town Mission, and a frequent and appreciated
visitor at the adult school.
He took a very active part in Society busi-
ness, was regular in attendance at Monthly and
other meetings, and was one of the foremost
workers in connection with the re-opening of
closed meeting-houses in the locality. For many
years he held a monthly service with the inmates
of the workhouse.
Though a successful man of business, and
diligent in it to the last, it was increasingly
noticeable during his latter years that merely
HENRT TATLOB. 161
business matters did not usurp the first place in
his attention. It may with truth be said that
his daily aim was to be about his Heavenly
Father's business. His last cottage-meeting, held
a few days before his death, seemed to have been
a specially blessed time ; his own face shone as
he returned home, and some of those who had
been present, little thinking it was the last time
they would meet with him, said that '^ they had
almost been in heaven."
His end came with great suddenness. He
had been at business as usual for most of the
market day, had a quiet evening with his wife,
and retired, so far as was observed, in his usual
health. He awoke about midnight, feeling some
discomfort, which was soon allayed, and then he
slept never to wake again on this side the veil.
His funeral was very largely attended by a
gathering representative of every sect and party.
Many testimonies were given, some from unex-
pected quarters, of appreciation of his honest,
earnest, and unostentatious Christian life.
The following extract from the letter of a
near relative may close this imperfect sketch.
'< Sometimes perhaps his life " (the early life is
here alluded to) ^* has looked too much of a sacri-
fice : but can we Judge ? Could his bright cheerful
162 ANNUAL MONITOR.
helpfulness in these later years have been so con
epicuons, had he not tasted largely of the disci-
pline of trial ? And is it not our greatest happiness
to believe that, following thus in the footsteps
of Jesus Christ on earth, he was being trained for
the higher service, and the glorious fulness of
blessing in the after life — the life of perfected
knowledge and of love, for which we long ? '
^^ Also we must feel thankful for the comfort
and CDJoyment w^hich our dear one tasted of
even here ; and will not his example and his
memory help all those who were dear to him,
however sorrowfully his loss may be felt ? Such
a life tells so much ; and while many people are
perplexed with problems, it stands, by the help
and blessing of God, as a witness which cannot
be set aside."
Lucy Taylor, 81 15 1 mo. 1888
Bathmines, Dublin, Widow of John Taylor.
Sarah Taylor, 62 28 6 mo. 1888
Halstead. Wife of Martin Taylor.
Annie Temple, 37 15 7 mo. 1888
Christchurch, New Zealand, Wife of Joseph
Temple.
Elizabeth Thistlethwaite,
Eawes. 77 1 1 mo. 1888
Wife of Simon Thistlethwaite,
richabd thompson. 163
Sarah Thistlbthwaite,
Eedland, Bristol 77 6 4 mo. 1888
Widow of Kichard Thistlethwaite.
Mary Hooper Thomas, 69 30 1 mo. 1888
Mafichester, Wife of Frederic Thomas.
Eichard Thompson, 77 20 6 mo. 1888
Gainsborough. A Minister.
Though not so well known as some, and
unable for some years past to go much from home,
yet we feel that we can hardly pass over the life
of Richard Thompson without a brief notice.
He was the son of John and Jane Thompson,
and was born at Hawes, in Wensleydale, in 1811.
After his birth his parents removed to Kendal,
where their exemplary Christian lives are still
remembered. A short time before his marriage
he settled in Whitehaven, but subsequently
removed to Gainsborough, where he spent the
remainder of his life-
As his mind was more and more brought
into subjection to the yoke of Christ, he became
zealous for the prosperity of His truth, and before
his own acknowledgment as a minister he was
indefatigible as the companion and helper of
others. The efficient service which he rendered
to the late John Hodgkin, Edward Backhouse,
and others, in their Gospel labours in Lincoln-
164 ANNUAL MONITOR.
shire and some of the neighbouring counti-es
more than forty years ago is still remem-
bered.
His ministry was at once simple and prac-
tical, tender and persuasive. Love reigned in
his heart. His whole deportment was a living
illustration of the "joy and peace in believing ;"
and the unspoken lessons of his daily consistent
life have left a memory behind that will not
readily be forgotten.
Owing to weakness at the heart, his sleep, in
the latter years of his life, was often interrupted,
and for many months before his death he was
unable to lie in a natural position ; but his
patience was very instructive ; he was never
heard to complain, and would often say, in answer
to inquiries after his health, " Oh ! I have had
such nice sleep, I have so much to be thankful
for ! " And on retiring to rest, if anyone said,
" I hope thou wilt get a good night," his reply
would be, " Yes, my dear, I hope we . all shalL"
Thoughtfulness for others was a marked feature
of his character. He never desired good for
himself alone.
His habitual cheerfulness during his long
confinement to the house, in his last winter and
spring, was very teaching ; he bore it without a
BICHABD THOMPSON. 166
murmiiTy though naturally of an active, energetic
temperament, and always seemed full of gratitude
for the blessings he still enjoyed. He read much
during this time, and also greatly appreciated
hearing reading, but was ever careful not to
impose this as a burden on others.
His Christianity was of that happy order
which commended religion to all around him.
His room was always brightened by his kindly,
loving, genial spirit.
He was at meeting on the last two meeting
days preceding his death, and on one of these
he spoke very impressively, and returned thanks
for the privilege of being able to be present.
He purposed attending again on the following
First-day, but before the hour came round he
had quietly and peacefully fallen asleep in Jesus,
and joined that great and more blessed meeting
of the Church triumphant in Heaven, who ^^have
washed their robes and made them white in the
blood of the Lamb." He died on the morning
of First-day, the 20th of Fifth month, passing
quietly away in sleep. Thus was fulfilled his
often-expreesed wish, " I should like to die in
harness." His attitude had long been that of
one who waited for the coming of his Lord.
He was held in high esteem by his fellow-
166 ANNUAL MONITOR.
townsmen, who often sought his advice, and who
testified their respect by attending his funeral in
large numbers, business being suspended for the
time.
Thomas Triplow, 60 14 7 mo. 1888
Chatteris.
Caroline L. Tyler, 29 26 10 mo. 1888
Stoke Neivington, Daughter of Ellen and the
late James Tyler.
C. L. Tyler passed away after a few weeks'
illness, leaving a comforting assurance to those
who mourn her loss that she has gone to dwell
with her blessed Bedeemer, for whom she had
worked in a quiet unassuming way. One night,
early in her illness, she sang in a clear voice the
hymn, ^' Safe in the arms of Jesus," and, turning
to her mother, said, "That is where I am."
Throughout her illness she showed great patience,
and thoughtful care for her beloved mother, and
those who waited on her.
Mart Unthank, 83 2 11 mo. 1887
North Shields, Widow of George Unthank.
Emily G. Uprichard, 35 26 10 mo. 1887
Gilford, Moyallon. Wife of Henry A.
Uprichard.
James Wadha^i, 77 27 4 mo. 1888
Darlington.
SARAH WALKEB. 167
John Walford, 85 8 8 mo. 1888
Neithrop, BaTihwry.
Elizabbth Walker, 77 25 3 mo. 1888
Darlington, Widow of Joseph Walker.
Mart Walker, 84 7 10 mo. 1887
Bastridk, Widow of Samuel Walker.
Sarah Walker, 83 21 2 mo. 1888
Bradford, A Minister. Widow of Thomas
Walker.
*' Did not God choose them that are poor as
to the world to be rich in faith, and heirs of the
kingdom which He promised to them that love
Him ? "
These words find an apt illustration in the
character and experience of Sarah Walker, who
in a life sometimes marked by a straggle with
poverty, with very little advantage as to education,
and but little known beyond her immediate sur-
roundings, was yet rich in faith in the Lord Jesus
Christ, and was made a helper, a teacher, and a
comforter to many in humble life, as well as to
some whose social advantages far exceeded her
■own.
About the year 1866 she composed an auto-
biography, from which most of the statements
■contained in this account of her are gathered.
She was born in 1804, at the village of Bradley,
168 ANKUAL MONITOR.
near Skipton, and was the daughter of John and
Ann Currer, pious people belonging to the
Methodists. Their family was very large, thirteen
sons and daughters living to maturity. S. W.
says : — " "When I was about nine years of age, I
went to hear a Methodist minister of the name of
Thomas Barrett, who preached a sermon on the
text, ' What shall it profit a roan if he gain the
whole world and lose his own soul 1 * and he placed
it before me in such a light, that I wept bitterly,
and my miud was very much wrought upon. I
used to retire and pray in private ; but by not
attending to the drawings of the Spirit I grew
careless. About that time I went out to service,
and had many difficulties to contend with in
getting to chapel on First-days. My master was
a well-to-do man, and wanted me to do a deal of
unnecessary work ; but I managed to get out
sometimes, and the Lord in His mercy kept me
near Him, so that I did not get very far astray.
. . . When I was nearly nineteen there was a
revival, and many young people began to be
thoughtful about their souls' safety. I was in
great distress of mind on account of sinning
against light and knowledge ; I felt as if I was
going down to hell with a light in my hand ; and
I wished I was a dog, or anything but an account-
S^BAH WALKBB. 169
able being. At this time a travelliDg preacher
came to ooi village, and preached a sermon on thek
text^ ' Sirs, what must I do to be saved 1 ' Before
the meeting I had some conversation with him^
and he saw how it was with me, and said, ' The
Lord in His mercy is ploughing you deep, that
seed may be sown and not wither so soon/ Whilst
he was preaching many passages seemed to apply
to me : one was, ' I will cast thy sins behind my
back, and remember them, no more to thy con-
demnation/ I claimed it for myself, and light
gradually dawned on me, so that I was like the
man who began to see men as trees walking.
From that time, for a good while, I went on very
smoothly and comfortably."
Sarah Currer was married to Thomas Walker
in 1824. He had been brought into serious-
thoughtfulness at the time of the revival alluded
to above. In a few years they were surrounded
by a family of young children, and S. W. felt
very deeply her responsibility in having them to>
train for time and for eternity.
S. Walker's first attraction towards Friends
resulted from her attendance, when about twenty-
four years old, of a meeting held at Skipton by
the late Martha Thomhill and a companion, at
which she was led to see the value of " silent
Q
170 ANNUAL MONITOR.
waiting and watching, and not being carried away
with words;'' and from that time she became
more and more dissatisfied with singing in public
worship, '^ feeling that not one hymn could be
sung in which all could unite." Shortly after-
wards, she says, ^'I heard a preacher deliver a
sermon which I afterwards found he had learnt
by heart, as we had it in our own house, in a
book written by John Wesley. This made me
begin to feel very much dissatisfied with man's
preaching, unless he wad rightly called." Whilst
under these convictions, she was visited by a
Priend, who told her that he believed if she was
Mthful to the teachings of the Holy Spirit, she
would become a Friend ; and she then resolved,
if she should ever have the opportunity, that she
would become a regular attender of Friends'
meetings.
Thomas Walker was a wool-comber, and ob-
tained his work at Keighley, whither he had to
walk, a distance of nearly eight miles, to fetch
the wool. When trade became more prosperous
in 1841, thinking it desirable that he should be
nearer to his work, they removed to Bradford.
There the desired opportunity of attending the
meetings of Friends was embraced, and S. Walker
very soon severed her connection with the Wes-
SARAH WAITER. 171
leyans, and in 1856 was received into member-
ship with Friends.
About three years after their removal to
Bradford, Thomas Walker died, leaving his widow
comforted with the assurance that all was well
with him, but leaving her also to care alone for
her family of children. It was not long before
they became very poor, and S. W, was compelled
to become for two years a recipient of parish
relief. She says, " At one time during our dis-
tress, I was two whole days without anything to
eat ; but God, who cares for the sparrows, cared
for me, and sent me relief. David Smith, not
knowing of our poverty, called on me and gave
me five shillings, which relieved our present
wants* I might have gone on credit, but I knew
how difficult it is to get debts paid with a family
of young children, and I have always thought
that getting credit is dottm hill work, but getting
out of debt up hill.^* Eventually she felt herself
directed by a dream to take a small coal store
which was for disposal in her neighbourhood,
and was able by care and diligence to clear her-
self from all indebtedness and to provide for her
family.
About the year 1849, S. Walker began to
feel herself called to speak in the meeting, which
172 ANNUAL MONITOB.
she attended on week-daya as well as on First-
days : but, as so many others have done, she
yielded to the fear of man, and held back from
obedience. How could she, in her simplicity and
ignorance, ''speak amongst a learned people"?
So she reasoned ; and so reasoning withheld
obedience to the Spirit's prompting, imtil she
was brought into great darkness and oppression
of soul, imder which her health broke down and
she became very ill. In this time of distress, as
she says, her cry was '''Lord what wilt Thou
have me to dol' Then I saw that to make a
building complete, the fillers were required as
well as the front stones, and I yielded that what
the Lord required of me I would do. From that
time I began to recover." Shortly afterwards
she again felt drawn to offer prayer in meeting,
and her obedience brought peace and comfort to
her heart.
S. Walker's utterance was always marked by
the broad vernacular of the West Biding of
Yorkshire, and there is no doubt but that the
prayer above alluded to was a little startling to
some who heard it on this account ; nevertheless
it was surely a mistake on the part of a woman
Friend, who after this, her first act of public
■obedience to the call of her Lord, requested that
8ARAH WALKBR. 173
she would not again offer prayer in meeting.
Under discouragement at this rebuff, S. W. for
along time kept silence in meeting, and again
fell into spiritual darkness and distress, until the
words of Jesus, addressed to Peter, were powerfully
impressed upon her mind, '^ Lovest thou Me more
than these? Feed My sheep;'' and she waa
strengthened again to obey the call of the Lord ;
and after some years she was recorded as a
minister by her Monthly Meeting.
In her public addresses and prayers, which
were usually brief, the homely and untutored
laoguage which she employed was overlooked
under the deep earnestness and reverence with
which she spoke, and her words often brought
strength and comfort to those who heard them.
But it was not in public only that she was thus
made helpful to her friends. She loved to see
them in the quiet of her own humble home,
when, in her later years, she lived with her son
Charles, to speak with them of the goodness and
faithfulness of the Lord, and to join with them
in prayer at the throne of grace. *' Thou must
not reason," she would sometimes say to one of
them who loved to visit her, and whose spirit
was often sorely burdened and cast down, " Thou
must not reason, but trust in the Lord for ever^
174 ANNUAL MONITOR.
for with Him is everlasting strength ; " and many
a time did her friend Aeare her, feeling com^
forted and refreshed hj her loving words of
cheer.
From quite early life she had been a diligent
visitor of the sick, and she says that when about
fifty years of age, it had long been her desire to
make it her daily occupation to visit the father-
less and widows, and to be a light to the blind ;
and now the Lord in His mercy granted her
«Lesire. A person .who had been employed by
the late John Priestman as a distributor of
temperance tracts and literature, relinquished
his post, which was offered to her and gladly
accepted. She was thus relieved from the
laborious work of her coal store, and entered
upon her new and more congenial employment,
which brought her abundant opportunities of
pleading with the careless and with sinners, that
they would think of their eternal interests, and
listen to the glad message of the Gk)spel of the
Lord Jesus Christ ; of sitting by the bedside of
the sick and dying, praying with and for them,
and pointing them to that Saviour in whom all
her own hopes rested ; and of speaking words of
comfort and cheer to the bereaved and desolate.
Many were the interesting cases which came
SARAH WALKER. 175
fmder her notice ; to some of them she was led
providentially, as she sometimes went out " not
knowing whither she went." Often was she sen
for in haste in cases of accident or serious illness,
the people saying they would rather have her to
see them than '^ the minister." And to not a
few she was made by her Lord an effective
messenger of life and peace.
For many of the later years of her long life
Sarah Walker was confined mostly indoors, in
very feeble health. She, however, continued to
take a warm interest in everything affecting the
welfare of her friends and their meetings, and
gladly welcomed the younger ones who called
npon her, and such as were engaged in the work
of the schools and mission meetings ; seeking to
€heer and encourage them to go on hopefully and
trustfully; telling them that though she could not
be present with them, she could and did pray
for them, that they might be guided aright ; and
sometimes quoting a favourite verse from Wesley's
hymn-book : —
" What now is my object and aim ?
What now is my hope and desire ?
To follow the heavenly Lamb,
And after His image aspire.
176 ANNUAL MONITOR.
My hope is all centred in Thoe ;
I trust to recover Thy love ;
On earth Thy salvation to see,
And then to enjoy it above.**
During her last two years memory began to
fail her, but her favourite passages of Scriptuie,
especially the tenth chapter of Romans and the
eighty-fourth and ninety-first Psalms, were kept
constantly within reach of her couch. She never
lost her hold on the things of the heavenly king-
dom, and often repeated the lines : —
*' Abide with me ; fast falls the eventide ;
The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide."
As her last days drew on she requested
her friends to pray for her, that she might be
patient and resigned, for she was waiting and
ready for her Lord to come. Her heart seemed
filled with gratitude to her Heavenly Fatheiu
*' Lord, what is man that Thou art mindful of
him ? " was often on her lips. Her end was
peace, perfect peace ; when she could speak of
little else than the goodness of her God and
Saviour. Her last words were, ^'Come, Lord
Jesus, come quickly ; *' and very soon she fell
asleep in Him, and, as we cannot doubt, was
satisfied in her new awaking, with His like*
nes8.
MARGARET H. WALLIS. 177
Elizabeth Wallis, 52 13 1 mo. 1888
Southampton,
Margaret H. Wallis, 35 4 12 mo. 1887
Southport, Daughter of Hannah and the late
Arthur Wallis.
It is with no thought of drawing up a formal
memoir that the following lines have been penned;
but it has seemed as if a short description of the life
of one heavily weighted with physical deprivation
and weakness, and yet pervaded with peaceful
and even joyous submission to the Divine will,
would further the honour and glory of Him,
whose great and all-powerful love alone makes
such lives possible, and whose strength is indeed
made perfect in the weakness of those who trust
in Him. Also it is hoped that this short sketch
may bring a word of comfort to some who also
hre set aside to sujQFer the discipline of weakness,
reminding them that there is work even for them
to do, |or that they '' also serve who only stand
and wait."
The subject of this notice, Margaret Hannah
Wallis, was bom at Brighton in 1852, but while
fltill young she removed with the other members
of her family to Southport, where the rest of her
life was spent.
It was at about the age of fifteen that the
178 ANNUAL MONITOB.
earliest symptoms of defective sight appeared;
but so slowly did the shadow spread that it was
not until some eight or nine years later that
it became evident that it was the Father's will
that the darkness that shrouded her should be
complete.
Although she had yielded her heart to a
Saviour's love while still in the early dawn of a
beautiful and unclouded girlhood, yet He had
many lessons still to teach her of His love and
all-Bufiicient grace, ere she was able in full and
joyful submission to recognise that His will was
'' good and acceptable and perfect/'
She derived much help and blessing from
the Keswick Conventions, being able to attend
several of the earlier gatherings in that beautiful
and favoured spot. There, like so many othenfi
she realised something of the '< fulness of the
blessing of the Gospel of Christ." Her sweet
,£ace, with its peaceful and satisfied expression,
was an index to the inner spiritual growth.
The subject of Faith Healing was brought
under her consideration about this time, and very
earnestly did she endeavour to find out what
might be the Lord's will for her in this mattei.
It may be that there is much yet to be revealed
in connection with this subject, ere we can feel
MARGARET H. WALLIS. 179
that we Lave been led into all truth concerning
it ; yet it is to be regretted that the somewhat
crude views held by its early propounders were
Buffered to disturb the peace of many an afflicted
child of God. In this case, after a long period
of patient waiting, M. H. Wallis was brought to
see that her Father in love withheld the answer
to her prayer for sight ; and, although the dis-
appointment was keen at first, yet as time wore
on, once more her peace flowed as a river ; and,
with spiritual senses exercised by reason of use,
she bravely and patiently gave up the hope of
ever being' again able to see.
Qradually, to total blindness was added great
weakness and frequent suffering, so that often for
months together she was unable to rise from her
couch. Long before this she had been obliged to
^ve up teaching, for which profession she had
been trained. Still in many ways she could guide
and influence the young by whom she was sur-
roimded in the school conducted by her mother
atid sister, and she was fond of practising the
younger girls in reading aloud to her. There are
those now who can trace their first thoughts of
good to a word in season spoken when they ''went
to read to Miss Margaret." Indeed, many testi-
monies have been given to the helpful influence
180 ANNUAL MONITOR.
of her gentle, Christ-like life, and sweet, unselfish
disposition. Her bright, unfailing interest in
everything around her was very noticeable; and
in watching her speaking countenance, lit up with
animation and interest, it was often difficult to
realise that she was blind.
Athough unable to exert herself actively, yet
she derived much pleasure from various sorts of
handiwork, with which her deft fingers were con^
stantly occupied. This gift, humble as it may be
considered, was yet improved to the utmost, and
she was enabled by it frequently to raise conside-
rable sums of money for various good^ works in
which she was interested.
In 1886 a severe attack of rheumatic fever
entirely prostrated her strength, and it seemed as
if she could not rally from the excessive weakness.
However, she was given back to her loved ones
for a season ; and although she felt it somewhat
hard to be brought so near to the golden gates
and not allowed to enter, yet life had still much
sweetness for her ; and for more than two yeara
longer she continued to preach eloqaent, U
silent, sermons, on the peace and joy of a conse-
crated life, and a will in unison with the " Will
that governs the Universe."
Her blindness and physical weakness made
MARGARET H. WALLIS. 181
writiug very distasteful to her, and habitual reti-
cence on the highest subjects prevents the secrets
of her inner life from being revealed. But it was
in her life more than with her lips that she
showed forth her Saviour's praises, and few came
into contact with her without feeling impelled to
drink of the " secret source of every precious
thing," from which she so manifestly drew her
strength to suffer and be strong.
It was in the late autumn of 1887 that symp-
toms of what proved her last illness showed them-
selves, and this time she could not rally. A deep
unconsciousness brooded over her for the last few
weeks, and prevented all farewell words. But
words were not needed ; the perfect peace of her
countenance while passing through the dark river
that divides the here from the hereafter was
sufficient testimony that she ''felt the bottom
and that it was good."
In witnessing such a departure, sorrow was
indeed swallowed up in deep and sacred joy that
the Saviour " had seen of the travail of His soul
9
and been satisfied," in this dear child of His ; while
as for her, we may reverently believe that, saved
by her Bedeemer^s love, her eyes, so long closed
to all earthly things, now '' see the King in His
beauty, and behold the land that is very far off."
R
182 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Emma Walton, 83 3 9 mo. 1888
Bishop Aucklwnd, An Elder. Widow of
Christoplier Walton.
Mart Ann Wardbll, ^ 69 13 4 mo. 1888
Oldham. Wife of Joseph Wardell.
Arthur Warner, 70 17 11 mo. 1887
Tunbridge Wells.
Jamss Warner, 41 9 6 mo. 1888
Heworthj Nevxastle.
John T. Warner, 37 7 9 mo. 1888
Hoddesdon, Son of Septimus and Elizabeth
Warner.
John Watson, 82 7 8 mo. 1888
Dublin,
Joshua Watson, 77 21 7 mo. 1888
Oateshead.
Matthew Watson, 18 29 12 mo. 1887
BcUlinderry. Son of Matthew Watson.
John Wilfrid Webb, 35 1 6 mo. 1888
Broamfield, Essex.
Mart Wbstlaks, 67 6 10 mo. 1887
SimUiampton.
The retiring nature of Mary Westlake would
have shrunk from any public record of her life,
but its lessons are too valuable to pass by with-
out a few words of comment.
She was the sister of William C. Westlake,
MART WE8TLAKB. 183
whose memoir appears in this Annmil Monitor
The brother and sister were most closely united,
and within six weeks both were gathered to their
eternal rest.
Mary Westlake was one of those quiet con-
sistent Christian characters that shed their power-
ful and kindly influence on all around, and whose
brightest sphere is the home circle. She was,
however, the moving spring of some of the
benevolent institutions of the town in which she
resided, notably of the Servants' Training School,
of which she was honorary secretary for more than
thirty years. She also acted as secretary to
the Ladies' Auxiliary of the Bible Society, a cause
which lay very near her heart. Other philan-
thropic movements were indebted to her ripe
judgment and active co-operation. But the great
charm was in her sweet unselfish Christian
character, and the example of her daily life.
Possessed of a powerful, refined, and cultivated
mind, it might truly be said that she *^ adorned
the doctrine of God her Saviour in all things.**
Her illness was of short duration, but the
calm unruffled peace with which she met her
unexpected call was a proof of the reality of her
steadfast faith in Christ. She entered into
the joy of her Lord, trusting solely in the com-
184 ANNUAL MONITOR.
pleted work and sacrifice of her Lord and
Saviour.
William Colson Westlakb,
Sovihampton. 65 21 11 mo. 1887
A Minister.
So recently has the animating presence of
this dear Friend been amongst us, that it seems
almost impossible to believe that the well-known
Editor of the FrievM Quarterly Excmmer is no
more, that the " Voice from Southampton " has
spoken its last words.
Some of his latest thoughts, echoed from the
Malvern Hills, were wonderfully typical of the
closing days so soon to follow. The description
of that sunset of unsullied glory, where the
threatening storm-clouds had smoothed away
under its mellowing rays, and an infinite calm
overspread the horizon, cannot but suggest now
its spiritual counterpart, when the dreaded suffer-
ings of a wasting disease, which appeared like
threatening storm-clouds, were smoothed away
by the Almighty Hand of Love, and an infinite
rest overspread his spirit. This continued until
he passed on to the still calmer rest and higher
service in one of the many mansions in his
Father^s House. Those who watched the flicker-
ing life fade away from his countenance, so restful
WILLIAM COLSON WBSTLAKB. 185
and noble to the last, were strikingly conscious
that death was only the semblance, and that life
was the reality ; that although the outward man
was perishing, the inward man was being raised
up to live in a higher glory with the Lord of Life
in Paradise.
William Colson Westlake was born in South-
ampton in 1822. His family for generations past
had been members of our religious Society. As
a boy he was remarkably courageous and active,
excelling in all games, boating, cricket, skating,
&c. ; he also possessed great mechanical skill.
These qualities, combined with a very amiable
disposition, rendered him a favourite school com-
panion. We can trace these traits of character,
thus early shown, in the pursuits which he
warmly encouraged in later life ; in the deter-
mined will with which he pressed through diffi-
culties in the cause of truth or to assist those
who were in trouble. " Constantly bent on the
goal duty " — ^was the phrase used by one who
knew him well to denote the attitude of his life ;
and the powerful way in which he advocated the
various institutions of his native town testifies to
the correctness of this remark. There are few
charitable institutions in Southampton that do
not owe much of their prosperity to W. C. West-
186 ANKUAIi MONITOR.
lake. The Infirmary, Dispensary, the School
Board, the Penny Bank, Young Men's Christian
Association, Working Men's Club and Refresh-
ment Rooms, Blanket Loan Society, and Hospital
Sunday Fund, were among the many causes that
received his warm interest and practical support.
In 1875 he espoused the cause of temperance,
and took the pledge under Canon Wilberforce,
since which time he has worked side by side with
this great temperance reformer, who felt his de-
cease as a personal and private sorrow.
In the year 1856 he married Elizabeth, eldest
daughter of the late Millis Coventry, of Wands-
worth ; and together they instituted those garden
parties for policemen, postmen, cabmen, Sunday
school teachers, &c., with their families, which
became an annual pleasure to those who partook
in them.
As the best exponent of the loss sustained by
his fellow-townsmen, the following may be quoted
from the Sovthampton Times : —
" It is with feelings of no ordinary regret,
and with a deep sense of personal as well as
public loss, that we record the death of our well-
known and highly esteemed fellow-townsman,
Mr. W. C. Westlake, J.P. The whole commu-
nity, apart altogether from differences or opinion,
WILLIAH OOLSON WSSTLAKB. 187
whether of a religious, political, or social cha-
racter, must have shared the experience of a com-
mon sorrow, when the fact of Mr. Westlake's
death became known ; and the more fully it is
realised the greater will the magnitude and
seriousness of the loss appear. It is given to few
men to fill so varied and large a sphere of useful-
ness as was the case with our deceased friend ;
and of him it may taruly be said, that while hold-
ing firmly to his own distinctive views and opi-
nions, he was the friend and helper of all, and
ever found his highest joy in rendering true ser-
vice and in doing real good to those around him •
. . . There was always an earnest design and
intent in all his movements, and it may be truly
said of Mr. Westlake that he endeavoured faith-
fully to carry out the injunction, ' Whatsoever
thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.'
" Although affected with an incurable com-
plaint he was mercifully spared much of the suf-
fering attending it. His last few days were
peaceful in the extreme, and at eight o'clock on
Monday evening he quietly breathed his last, at
the age of sixty-five. . . . Mr. Westlake has been
summoned to another sphere, where the labour
is without weariness, and the reward ever present.
We mourn his loss as that of a soldier who has
188 ANNUAL MONirOB.
fiillen in the forefront of the battle ; but who
shall say that his work was not done, or question
the wisdom that has closed this chapter in the
book of life ? We rejoice in the fact that he who
has gone was ready for the change, and that while
many have been specially benefited, the whole
community m/ust be the better for the life and
labours of William Colson Westlake."
But whilst the town at large justly mourns
the loss of so useful and excellent a leader, his
own family circle have more than equal cause to
sorrow for one so deeply beloved. It was here
that the tenderness of his nature was pre-eminently
shown, so that his nearest relatives were cherished
with a special individuality of affection. Few
who knew W. C. Westlake only in public life,
could credit the loving gentleness that dwelt
underneath his outward firmness.
« Tender as woman — manliness and meekness
In liim were so allied,
That they who judged him by his strength or
weakness
Saw but a single side."
His frequent calls on the sick and afflicted and
the generous assistance rendered in all cases of
difficulty or distress, performed with such cheeri-
ness and sprightly thought, endeared him to all
WILLIAM GOLBON WESTLAKE. 189
who knew him, and stimulated to energy and
peneverance. One other feature of his character
deserves special notice — ^the ardour with which
he entered into outward life. He encouraged all
innocent and manly recreations, his motto being»
" use the world as not abusing it." Yet he always
maintained the attitude of the Christian reformer,
contending earnestly, yet with a kindness that
won respect, with those who differed from him.
He was never daunted by failure, but appeared to
gather fresh courage in facing difficulties ; yet he
ever took a humble view of himself, acknowledg-
ing that after all he had done he was but ^' the
unprofitable servant who had done that which it
was his duty to do."
And now we would turn to his more hidden
and deeper life . From this we find that the spring
of all the good he was enabled to accomplish was
communion with Christ.
W. C. Westlake was a recorded Minister for
about twenty-five years. His religious service
was chiefly within the boundary of his own
Quarterly Meeting, where his matured thought
and experience were greatly valued. He was a
diligent attender of the Yearly Meeting, in which
his judgment was highly prized ; and for many
years he gave an annual review of its proceedings
190 ANNUAL MONITOR.
in the Friends' Quarterly Examiner, He often
visited the smaller meetings around him ; but his
chief interest was reserved for the members of
his own, often visiting them in the sick chamber,
and personally helping in any cases of difficulty.
About a year previous to his death, William
C. Westlake was found to have the germs of
that fatal disease which hastened his departure to
the better land. After prayerful consultation
with his friends he went through two operations
by the advice of his physician. The following
personal testimony was written at this juncture :
— " With this contingency before me " (i.e., the
possibility of a fatal issue) " the tremendous reality
of the life beyond impelled me to ' try the founda-
tions,' and test the real supporting power of that
whereon my eternal hope rested. ... A Person,
not a Creed, was that towards which my anxious
heart longed to reach forth when in deep waters,
and to hear the compassionate voice : * Fear not ;
I am the first and the last, and the Living One ;
I was dead, and behold I am alive for evermore,
and I have the keys of death and of Hades, . .
An earnest gaze at the Cross on Calvary, at Him^
the eternal Son of God, who there hung for our
sakes, — * Who His own self bore our sins in His
own body,' was the only and all-sufficient resource
WILUAM COLSON WBSTLAKE. 191
upon which mj yearning anxious soul could rest
aipidst all."
Five months afterwards the disease re-
appeared, and the doctors pronounced his case
beyond human aid. Many earnest prayers
ascended to God, that if in accordance with His
will, the complaint might be removed ; but His
time had come to call His beloved servant home ;
yet lovingly the Lord answered the prayers by
mitigating the pain and other trying atten-
dants of the malady. From the time it was first
discovered, the Lord bestowed a marked deepen-
ing of the spiritual life. He brought him into a
wealthy place, and his ministry was in the fresh
demonstration of the Spirit, and with power.
His last utterance in the ministry in his own
meeting was a beautiful testimony to the life of
Christ within him. A few sentences may be
quoted from memory :t-
" Although physically unable to speak more
than a few words, I feel I must bear witness to
the reality of this salvation to carry us through
the greatest trials. I sometimes feel that in this
little meeting, where we are so bound together by
family ties and by the bonds of Christian love,
there is a fear, when one is laid aside by affliction,
of undue prominence being given to that one.
192 ANNUAL MONITOR.
" If we think of the events of the past few
weeks, how one dear sister who has often been
amongst us of late ** (his sister, Mary Westlake)
^' has been safely landed on the eternal shore ;
how another now lies on a sick bed, often in great
suffering ; and then, for myself, who, through all
that has come to me, have never been able to
inscribe the word chast&nmg against it ** (meaning
that love was so manifest in all), . . ^' we see that
no stoical endurance can be compared to that
trust of the Christian believer, that aU things
work together for good to them that love Gk>d.
" Even in the midst of suffering, may we
never allow gloom to be cast over our life, but
enjoy the blessings given to us by the wayside.
^' O dear Friends, dear young Friends espe-
cially, when the impression of these events has in
some measure subsided, let not the reality they
teach, pass away. Oh ! what a Saviour we have !
Let not the temptations of agnosticism, scepti-
cism, or the inducements to lead an impure life
because others around us do so, ever allow us to
give way, or to doubt the reality of His presence
and power to save.
'^ For this reason I stand here to bear witness
that even when things are beyond human power,
and seem walled up against us, with the waves
WILLIAM GOLBON WESTLAKE. 193
around us roaring, though there is outward suf-
fering, there is inward peace and joy. • . . No
child of Qod has ever had to endure more than
he has been enabled to bear."
From this time his active life subsided, and
for the last fortnight he remained quietly at
home, tended lovingly by his wife and daughter,
only able to see the members of his fEimily as they
called. To some of these he expressed in ardent
terms his trust in the Lord. '' I am in my Hea-
venly Father's hand." <^ It is all unbounded love
and unfailing mercy, and so it always has been."
'^ Each one will be cared for," &c., &c.
From this time he was almost free from
pain, and in the peace of God, which passeth all
understanding, he calmly awaited his summons
hence ; and we doubt not an entrance was minis-
tered to him abundantly into the everlasting
kingdom of his Lord and Saviour. The prayer
on many hearts was, ^' May my last end be like
his."
The funeral was very largely attended, all
classes of his fellow-townsmen testifying by their
presence how great was their love and respect
towards one who for so many years had lived
in their midst, and of whom it might be
emphatically said, '^ he went about doing good."
s
194 ANNUAL MONITOR.
Mart Ann Whitburn, 85 14 11 mo. 1887
FalmotUh,
RoBBRT J. White, 14 mos. 20 12 mo. 1887
Ipswich, Son of Charles and Mary Ann
White.
Joseph J. Whitehead, 18 10 6 mo. 1888
Halstead, Son of the late Mark and Ann
Whitehead.
John Whitfield, 88 9 8 mo. 1888
Donnye, Oootehdll.
Alice Wilkinson, 76 24 1 mo. 1888
Coventry, Widow of Thomas Wilkinson.
Mart Williams, 85 4 4 mo. 1888
York Widow of Caleb Williams.
John A. Williamson,
Allonby. 20 mos. 20 1 mo. 1888
Son of John and Elizabeth F. Williamson.
Sarah Jane Williamson,
WTiitehaven. 41 30 6 mo. 1888
Widow of Joseph R. Williamson.
Eliza Wilson, 77 27 7 mo. 1888
Sunderland, Widow of Joshua Wilson.
Florence Mart Wood, 26 27 9 mo. 1888
Bournemouth. Wife of Morris Wood.
Annie P. Woodhouse, 20 21 11 mo. 1887
Limerick. Daughter of William J. and Annie
Woodhouse.
ANNUAL MONITOR. 195
Peiscilla Woolven, 8 9 7 mo. 1888
Thakdiam Meetmg-hou&e. Daughter of Edward
and Charlotte Woolven.
Joseph Worth, Crewe, 36 20 10 mo. 1887
John Yeomanb, 65 8 4 mo. 1887
Sheffield. An Elder.
John Yorkb, York. 79 11 2 mo. 1888
Errata in last year's volume.
Page 20, line 20, for age 87, read 63.
„ 20, „ 7 and 8, /or Son of Walter H. and
Lucy Birchall, read Son of Lncy and the late
William Harding Birchall, of Melbourne, for-
merly of Hurley, near Leeds.
Page 42, line 17, for Baltimore, Co. Eildare, read
Bristol.
Page 146, line 2, read instead, Bathgar, Daughter
of Mary and the late Thomas Webb.
Page 180, line 26, /or W. Gundry, readW. Cole.
.INFANTS whose na/mes a/re not vaserted.
Under three months ... Boys 2 ... Girls 3
From three to six months „ ... „ 1
„ six to nine „ „ ... „
„ nine to twelve „ „ ... » 1
I
%
I
15
-sasssss- 1
-=-SS2SSS-
|,,„
i"'3"=-Sa35SS3'-S
■'"■"sssas"!
"rnTrrnTTTT
' = = = =3
fill
nil
i
This book should be returned to
the Library on or before the last date
stamped below.
A fine of five cents a day is incurred
by retaining it beyond the specified
time.
Please return promptly.